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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29968578">Quirky, Innit?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillyx/pseuds/quillyx'>quillyx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5up is here because 5undy hero duo, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bird Hybrid Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Blood, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Angst, Grayson | Purpled and Luke | Punz are Siblings, Hero 5up, Hero Floris | Fundy, Hero Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hero Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Hero Wilbur Soot, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It’s all platonic - Freeform, Light Angst, Luke | Punz &amp; Sapnap are Siblings, Platonically Married Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; TommyInnit Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Stubborn TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Techbur twins, Temporary Character Death, Tommy is not a vigilante here pls, Vigilante Grayson | Purpled, Vigilante Luke | Punz, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Violence, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, benchtrio r really close, everything is platonic, expect bnha levels of violence, hafu and 5up are siblings, mostly sbi, not sure if the violence is that graphic, quirk au kind of, unapologetically</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:53:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>62,828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29968578</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillyx/pseuds/quillyx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when three professional heroes meet three homeless teenagers with criminal records? Well... let’s just say it’s got its quirks.</p><p>This fic is long, but I promise you it’s worth it.</p><p>In which Tommy seeks out the world’s most dangerous villain for knowledge about his possible quirk, and ends up stumbling his way into a family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity &amp; Karl Jacobs &amp; Sapnap, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Floris | Fundy &amp; 5up, No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1779</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. do garages get cold in the winter?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dream is one of, if not the most infamous villians in modern history. And Tommy is going to find him. For selfish reasons of course.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The garage door gives off a shrill squeal as it opens, flooding the small space with light. Cold air cascades in from the outside, smothering the tiny amount of heat generated from the sun.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god,” Ranboo says, shivering. “I think i’ll just drop out like you guys.” He drops his backpack on the cold concrete floor and slouches against the garage door. </p><p> </p><p>“If only you’d listened to me months ago.” Tommy says with mock sympathy. “Jeez, can you shut the door already? It’s cold as hell.” </p><p> </p><p>“Ranboo!” Tubbo greets, ignoring Tommy. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi.” The tallest of the boys replies plainly. “What are you guys up to?” </p><p> </p><p>“Well, I <em>would </em>be enjoying some nice crisps right now, but someone forgot to go grocery shopping.” Tommy glared at Tubbo.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo looks up from his laptop, offended. “I didn’t <em>forget,” </em>he seethes, “It just so happens that I’m the only one with a job and buying crisps isn’t exactly my number one financial priority.” </p><p> </p><p>“All I’m hearing is that you’re lazy, bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo sighs. </p><p> </p><p>“Anyways, boys, I’ve got the most poggers of ideas.” </p><p> </p><p>“Most poggers?” Ranboo asks, bemused.</p><p> </p><p>”Yes.” Tommy replies quickly. “Big Q has connections to some thugs that know the big guys. Word on the street is that <em>Dream</em> will be in our city tonight — Apparently he’s got business with some heroes who patrol here, who cares — more importantly, I want to talk to him.”</p><p> </p><p>”That does not sound like a good idea.” Tubbo calls from the other side of the garage. </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Tubbo. Anyways, nobody knows what Dream’s quirk actually is, but eyewitnesses say that it has something to do with knowing things about people — namely people’s <em>quirks —</em> that he couldn’t possibly know.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I get it.” Ranboo says, a twinge of sarcasm laced his voice. “You want to go meet one of the world’s most dangerous villains so that he can tell you something about your quirk that you already know, namely that you don’t have one.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but I don’t like your tone.” Tommy retorts.</p><p> </p><p>”Sounds like a great idea, Tommy.” Tubbo chimes in again, his tone unenthused. </p><p> </p><p>“What, you don’t believe me?” Tommy scoffs. </p><p> </p><p>“No, no, I believe you.” Tubbo replies, his tone yet unwavering. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you, I’m gonna go find Dream and I’m going to show you that I have a quirk that is really cool and poggers, bitch.” </p><p> </p><p>“With all due respect, that sounds like it might not go very well.” Ranboo murmurs hesitantly.</p><p> </p><p>”Ranboo’s right.” Tubbo agrees. “Dream eats kids like us for breakfast.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, hasn’t he killed like, ten pro heroes or something?” Ranboo adds, concern rising.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but I’m not just a normal kid, am I?” Tommy argues. “I’m Tommy fucking Innit.” </p><p> </p><p>“TommyInnit, whose quirk is nothing.” Tubbo replies. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not nothing! It’s <em>something, </em>and I will prove it to you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, Tommy.” Ranboo yawns. “I’m going to take a nap. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m turning in, too.” Tubbo says. “It’s best to sleep before the sun goes down so the cold doesn’t keep you up.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy nods, eyes flaming with mischievous passion. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I have a poggers quirk, and they will eat their stupid, stupid, words.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Crickets filled the stagnant night air as Tommy shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets. He shivered, staring at his beat-up sneakers. </p><p> </p><p><em>I think Big Q said Dream had business with Technoblade. </em>Tommy thought to himself. <em>I wonder what he wants with the number one hero? The Blade seems like too large of prey, even for a guy like Dream. What’s the play there, big man? </em></p><p> </p><p>A sudden apparition of darkness broke Tommy out of his thoughts. He looked up, and noticed the neon sign of the pizza place in front of him had turned off. Tommy smiled knowingly. </p><p> </p><p>Dream tends to make a big show whenever he attacks. He also tends to kill anyone that gets in his way. So, naturally, when he’s spotted in an area, people are told to stay indoors and turn their lights off. The lights in the nearby street had all been shut off, but the buildings on the street across from it curiously remained on. </p><p> </p><p>The public and police are on high alert when Dream has been spotted in an area. There was no way they would miss him. That must mean, according to Tommy’s clever deduction, that Dream had not yet crossed to the other row of buildings. </p><p> </p><p>Dream was down that street.</p><p> </p><p>A shiver went down Tommy’s spine. He was, he’d admit, a little scared. But he was on a mission. At least if he was attacked he might get saved by the number one hero, Technoblade. It’s a win-win.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s pace quickened as he made his way down the darkened street. He tried to keep his movements quiet, so he could maybe get the jump on Dream. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, what’s a little kid like you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your mommy?”</p><p> </p><p>Dream, however, was a hardened criminal, and a very skilled villain. In hindsight, Tommy admitted, Dream would definitely outmaneuver a sixteen-year-old quirkless boy.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s breath caught in his throat, and he hesitantly turned to the source of the voice. </p><p> </p><p>The creepy smile crudely carved into Dream’s otherwise smooth mask stared back at him. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy gulped. On second thought, he didn’t really like this idea anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“Big D!” Tommy smiled nervously. “Fancy seeing you here.”</p><p> </p><p>”Hmm...” Dream’s mask stared at Tommy, smiling but expressionless. “I guess this boy could be a good bait for Technoblade.” The villain spoke as if Tommy wasn’t standing right there.</p><p> </p><p>“Uhh, I don’t really want to be bait at all, actually.” Tommy said.</p><p> </p><p>”What’s your quirk, boy?” Dream asked, ignoring Tommy yet again.</p><p> </p><p>”Don’t have one.” Tommy replied plainly. “Well, actually, I don’t know that for sure. I was actually here because I thought you could help me figure out something. You see, I think I might actually have a quirk that’s just a little hard to detect, and I heard you’re pretty good at figuring out quirks, aren’t you Dream?” The words tumbled out of Tommy’s mouth hastily. </p><p> </p><p>A beat of silence. </p><p> </p><p>“Dream?”</p><p> </p><p>”No way...” The villain murmured, barely audible.</p><p> </p><p>”Uh, Big D?” </p><p> </p><p>“When there isn’t a quirk, I read no quirk.” Dream said, his tone oddly quizzical. “But you... I can’t read you at all.”</p><p> </p><p>”Uh, thanks?” Tommy stammered, confused.</p><p> </p><p>”You must have a mutant quirk.”</p><p> </p><p>”A <em>what?”</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>that’s the first chapter! gosh i’ve been wanting to write a dreamsmp bnha au for so long, so here i am writing my take on it.</p><p>basically i saw eneli’s vigilante tommy fic and i thought “hm, what if i took tommy being immune to quirks and cranked that shit up to eleven” also, more angst because i’m a little shit</p><p>yeah, so props to them for inspiring this fic. it’s set in its own universe though. tommy also isn’t a vigilante here. just a lil guy</p><p>feedback is appreciated heart emoji</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. when stubbornness meets power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy meets his hero in a very... unconventional manner.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hm. I think I’ll postpone my plans for now.” The masked villain said, shifting his weight cooly. He pointed a scarred finger at Tommy. “I want you to come with me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, sorry man, but I’m not for sale.” Tommy stepped back, laughing nervously. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream laughed, it was the kind of dry, wheezing laugh that exudes confidence. “You’re funny, kid.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy rubbed his brow, now slick with sweat. “I was being serious.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream wheezed again. “I didn’t say you had a choice in the matter.” his expression was unreadable under the mask, but Tommy could hear his twisted smile.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit.” Tommy muttered, his face white. “Um, I promise I’m not that special, big man. I don’t even have a quirk.” Tommy cursed inwardly at the shakiness of his voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t lie to me, idiot.” Dream scoffed. “I can tell when someone is useless, and you are not.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, I guess?” Tommy replied. “But you’re still mistaken, I really don’t have a quirk.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream sighed. “I don’t have time for this.” He pulled a suspiciously gun-shaped object from his belt, stepping toward Tommy. “This may hurt a bit.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Holy shit. Fuck. Not good, not good. not good.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>SO not poggers</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream swiftly grabbed Tommy by the shirt and pulled his arm over Tommy’s mouth, his other hand held the gun to his neck. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s tall frame shook.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t struggle,” Dream whispered sweetly. “It will only make things worse.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>I am so sorry for this, it’s a low blow even for me.</em> The thought crossed through Tommy’s mind as he promptly raised his leg and kneed Dream in the balls. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You idiot—“ Dream groaned, staggering backwards. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Sorry again.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy grabbed Dream’s wrist and tried to take the gun from Dream’s hand, but a sharp pain in his leg stopped him, and he crumpled to the ground, eyes squeezed shut. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked up blearily, chest heaving as he spotted Dream’s other hand, with an identical gun. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">That bastard has two of them? That’s unfair as fuck. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Always watch your opponent’s hands when you’re attempting to disarm them.” Dream’s voice filtered through Tommy’s fuzzy mind.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck you.” Tommy slurred. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream seemed shocked to see Tommy speak. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s an intensely powerful tranquilizer, why are you still conscious?” Dream growled. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Tranquilizer? Oh, shit. Bad news.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy felt like he was moving through gelatin, his movements slow and laborious as he turned his head to look at where he’d been shot. His eyes widened a little more from their half-lidded state as he spotted a dart sticking out of his shin.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Shit, it’s hard to breathe. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still, though, Tommy managed to stagger to his feet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream’s quick and calculated movements paused for a moment as he glanced at Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How—“ Dream sputtered. “How are you— That serum takes people out in seconds. Why are you still standing?” His tone was abnormally shocked, incredulous even.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spite and stubbornness is a hell of a drug. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy swayed on his feet, his stance uneven. He knew he didn’t look good. His left eye was completely closed and he couldn’t get it to open. He was still standing, though. Which seemed to freak Dream out. There was a slight problem though. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had no god damn clue what to do now. He felt like he might pass out any second, he definitely could not run. He could barely speak, let alone scream. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">So what does he do?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Do what he does best, and annoy the shit out of Dream so he leaves. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, big man.” Tommy murmured, a half-grin spread across his features. “What’s wrong?” Tommy tried to shrug cooly, but it turned out to be more of a stagger sideways. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You,” Dream breathed, his tone now cheerful. “I wasn’t that sure before, but now I know I need you. You’re somethin’ special.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Disagree.” Tommy chimed in, his words slurred. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream said nothing, just silently observing Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His legs shook, begging him to just <em>let go,</em> but Tommy refused. He stood. He stood for what felt like an eternity. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow.” Dream laughed lightly. “That’s interesting, but I’m afraid I’ll have to study you more later.” Dream aimed the gun at Tommy again. “You may survive one dose, but you’ll be out for days with two.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream’s finger hovered over the trigger, and Tommy shook violently, his body getting heavier by the second. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy perked up a little when he heard Dream let out of a hiss of pain. He tried his best to focus his vision, and he could just barely make out bright green hair, and the scent of gunpowder filled the air. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Holy shit. No way. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In front of him, currently pinning Dream to the wall, was Awesamdude, the number nine hero. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Sam, hero name Awesamdude. His quirk? Gunpowder. He can cough up a gunpowder-like substance that’s highly flammable. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You okay, kid?” Sam called. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Tommy managed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Goo—“ Sam was interrupted by a knife just barely grazing his neck. Sam jumped back instinctively, freeing Dream.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Damn, I missed.” Dream said with mock resignation. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sam coughed into his hand, and reached for his lighter— </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Where  was his lighter? </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Looking for this?” Dream held Sam’s utility belt in his left hand, nonchalantly tossing a knife in the other. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sam stepped back, expression hardening. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Seriously,” Dream continued like a friend having a casual conversation. “I just told that kid over there to watch your opponent’s hands.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy clenched his fists, knuckles turning white. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream drew a long, machete-like blade and threw it skillfully at Sam. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sam dodged the attack with relative ease, and effortlessly dodged it again when it returned to Dream’s hand like some sort of boomerang. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, so you dodge well, do ya?” Dream said, unfazed. “Okay, I’ll just attack something that can’t dodge.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mea—“ Sam’s stomach lurched as a blade whizzed past his ear and flew through the air directly toward Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Get out of the way, kid!” Sam yelled.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When it became obvious that Tommy wasn’t going to move, Sam rushed in front of him, and the blade connected with his back.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy tumbled to the ground behind Sam, unable to stand any longer. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Blood dripped onto the ground in front of Tommy, and he wanted to puke. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sam stood, half crouching, as Dream approached him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I expected more from number nine.” Dream said simply, twirling his gun around his finger. “Whatever.” he shrugged, sleeving his gun and holding his blade to Sam’s neck. “I’ll kill you. It’ll prove a point to the people, I guess.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How dare you,” Sam spat, his voice pained.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hm?” Dream cocked his head to one side, almost playfully. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You speak of life and death as if it doesn’t affect you—“ Sam coughed. “and countless others.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah.” Dream said plainly. “That’s nothing new. I hear that all the time. You heroes never have anything new to say.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go.” Tommy called to Sam, his voice wavering. “Run. He’s after me. He has to stay here for me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Brat.” Dream spat. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy offered a small chuckle. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How can I call myself a hero if I leave an innocent person to die?” Sam choked out, his expression resolute and firm. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He won’t kill me,” Tommy slurred. “He wants me alive.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I refuse to leave an innocent alone with a villain.” Sam spoke with a resolve that Tommy knew he couldn’t break. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How sad,” Dream said, pushing Sam to the ground and pressing his knee to his chest. “Now you’ll both pay for your mistakes.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy tried to scream, to call for help, or even lift a stupid finger, but he couldn’t. He laid motionless on the ground, watching in horror as blood pooled under Sam. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please don’t kill him, Dream.” Tommy murmured, his voice barely a whisper. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll do as I please.” Dream countered, his voice laced with sick satisfaction.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy spotted something shiny out of the corner of his blurry vision. <em>What was that? </em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A thud sounded from behind him, and Tommy jerked his head back in Dream’s direction. The villain was rubbing his head, something laid on the ground beside him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That random skateboard really came in handy.” Came a voice that was monotone, yet overflowing with power. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The clank of steel soles meeting the ground finally made the dots connect in Tommy’s mind. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The Blade?” Tommy mumbled, his mind swimming. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hullo.” Technoblade stood, towering over the villian and hero on the concrete. A crossbow was strapped to the number one hero’s back, a sword hung loosely at his hip. Shining silver armor adorned the hero’s shoulders, chest, shins, and arms. His long pink hair was pinned up with a crown-shaped barrette.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Holy shit.</em> Tommy would be jumping up and down if he wasn’t on the brink of unconsciousness. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Technoblade held his sword to the villain, his expression was bored and even, which was a stark contrast to Sam’s initial fearful gaze.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">God, The Blade was so fucking cool.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Number One!” Dream chuckled. “I was looking for you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What a coincidence, I was looking for you.” Technoblade’s voice held no emotion, giving nothing away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve waited so long for this moment.” Dream cackled, getting to his feet. “I’ve dreamed of killing you for so long. This is gonna be so good.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, we finally meet.” Techno said sarcastically, his even gaze refusing to falter. “Look, I’m on a tight schedule, so I kind of need you to come with me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nah, I think killing you would be more fun.” Dream cackled, air wheezing from his lungs. He darted around Techno’s sword and raised his arm, knife aimed for the hero’s back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno let out a heavy sigh before shifting his weight to his heels and springing into the air, crossbow armed and ready. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, this is what I’m talking about!” Dream cheered, ducking under the arrow from Techno’s crossbow, and then jumping over it again when it spun in the air, aiming back towards the villain. Dream dodged the arrow again, his laugh bouncing off of the nearby wall. The arrow corrected its trajectory once more, before Dream caught it mid-air and snapped it over his knee. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know all about you, mister Perfect Aim.” Dream let out a low chuckle. “I know just how to counter you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know man,” The Blade responded in the same monotonous tone as he landed his jump nimbly, leaned back, and fired another arrow all in one swift motion. “seems kind of sketchy. Dunno if I believe you.” The hero smirked slightly as he watched the villain struggle to evade his attack.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy wanted to squeal. <em>The Blade is even cooler in person than on video, how is this possible?</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The arrow finally connected with Dream’s hand, sending Dream’s knife clattering to the floor. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ooh,” Dream purred, despite being unarmed. “You’re good.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, I guess.” Technoblade shrugged cooly as he grabbed the villain by the wrist and wrenched his arms behind his back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Holy fuck that’s my line!</em> Tommy thought numbly, and then he vaguely registered his head meeting the ground as the world flickered out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>woo chapter two! can u tell i love techno very much? ya btw in case it wasn’t clear, techno’s quirk is basically just that he has perfect aim.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. kid’s got guts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Techno reunites with his hero friends and they adopt a child.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur sighed. “Where the fuck did Techno run off to?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You think I know?” Phil laughed. “He sees something and takes off. That’s just how he is.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but it’s 3 AM.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know his sleep schedule is fucked.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, so you guys don’t know?” A voice came from the other side of the agency.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“‘Scuse me?” Phil turned. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry to interrupt,” The Persuasive hero, 5up, stepped forward. “Blade’s out because Dream’s been spotted in town.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s heart dropped into his shoes, and his face turned pale. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait,” Wilbur stammered. “Dream, — the villain known for his dangerous decrees to kill Techno — is here, and Techno went out by himself?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">5up glanced between Wilbur and Phil worriedly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s Techno for you.” Phil laughed nervously. “I’m sure he’s fine.” He waved his hand dismissively, swaying on his feet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Wilbur agreed, sweat beading on his forehead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The two heroes stood in silence for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just gonna go make sure he’s okay.” Wilbur spoke quickly, dashing toward the entrance of the agency.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right behind ya, mate.” Phil agreed almost instantly, shaking out his wings and diving out the window. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The frigid night air stung Phil’s face as he flew, his strong, powerful wings carrying him upwards. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to quell his anxiety. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno always felt like a son to Phil, he cared way too much about that kid. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well, Techno wasn’t a kid anymore, he’s the number one hero now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>He’s come so far,</em> Phil thought, tears pricking at his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A bright light at the corner of his vision caught his attention, his brief walk down memory lane cut short. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Blue and red lights flashed below, a bright contrast to the stagnant darkness that swept over the rest of the area. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whistle,” Phil’s voice crackled over his headset, calling Wilbur by his hero name. “Intersection of South Street and White Pike, there’s police activity. Techno is probably here, I’m stopping to investigate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur gulped, and promptly stopped running, the springy soles of his boots causing him to wobble a little. He opened his phone to check his location. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">South Street, White Pike...</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shit, that’s a street over. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Techno, you better not be dead, you dickhead.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As soon as his feet hit the ground, Phil started booking it to the now-visible police vans piled up at one corner of the intersection. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Blade?” He called, out of breath. “Techno?” He called his friend by his real name, concern all but concealed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bright lights clouded his vision, but he could recognize that lanky frame anywhere. Before he could think, Phil had crashed into his friend, wrapping his arms around Techno. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Woah, hey Phil. What’re you doin’ here?” Techno’s signature bored tone slightly wavered at the sudden impact.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You motherfucker!” Phil pulled back, his eyes watery. “You scared me!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno stalled for a second. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh... why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean, why?” Phil scolded. “You went after a highly dangerous criminal alone!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Techno responded, his hand placed behind his head sheepishly. “Didn’t think it be worth botherin’ ya.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anyone ever tell you that you care too much, Phil?” Wilbur asked, strolling up to the scene casually. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, shut up.” Phil countered, “You were just as worried as I was. You even left before me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur’s face reddened. “I did not.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did not.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just ask 5up, he’ll tell you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Techno, do not do that.” Wilbur urged, his tone nervous. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno laughed his signature hearty laugh, and placed a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I would be worried for you, too.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur scoffed, his ears burning. “Shut up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s okay, Wil. We know you love your big brother so much.” Phil teased, his wings fluttering. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur let out a high-pitched whistle, causing the nearby police officers to stop in place and murmur confusedly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, what were you sayin’?” Techno asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t remember what we were talking about.” Phil glanced to the side curiously. He spotted Wilbur’s red ears and his face twisted in mock offense. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wilbur, what did I say about using your quirk for personal grievances?” Phil scolded.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Wilbur replied, briskly turning on his heel and starting to walk away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait.” Techno cut in, holding his arm out to stop Wilbur. “I need your help, actually.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s up, mate?” Phil asked, his head cocked to the side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wilbur giggled softly. He looked like a bird.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They already got Dream to the transfer vehicle or whatever, and there was a hero here — Sam, i think — that was injured, but he was taken care of by paramedics.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, you took down Dream?” Phil asked, his jaw dropping in awe. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but it was cause he was distracted.” Techno waved his hand dismissively. “By that kid.” Techno pointed at a kid, no older than 16, crumpled motionless on the ground. His hair was thick with dirt, and he wore a torn red-and-white jacket with beat-up red sneakers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He looks awful.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wilbur!” Phil chastised, punching the younger hero’s arm.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just speaking the truth!” Wilbur responded, raising his hands in surrender.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Techno continued. “Dream was real interested in him. He’s unconscious because Dream used his ultra-rare extremely powerful tranquilizer on him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur’s eyes widened. “On a kid?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mhm.” Techno hummed. “The police say that he must be of extreme value to Dream, though they can’t seem to figure out why. Kid doesn’t have any I.D. on him, and no one has been lookin’ for a kid like him, so the police wanted heroes to look after him, ‘cause they don’t know what side effects that tranquilizer has. Plus some of Dream’s buddies might come try to take him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit.” Wilbur whispered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Poor kid.” Phil murmured. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully, “It’s interestin’ though. When I got there, he was still conscious, and that tranquilizer is known to knock out victims in a matter of seconds. The hero there, Awesamdude, said that the little guy was still standin’ when he arrived at the scene, and he didn’t pass out until a little after I got there. He spoke and everythin’. Recognized me, too.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kid’s got guts.” Wilbur said. “Clearly no normal child.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Should we take him?” Phil asked suddenly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur looked at Techno. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure.” Techno shrugged. “We have beds at the agency.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil knelt down and carefully slid his arms under the kid’s lower back and knees. He braced himself, prepared to heave the kid off the ground. He quickly found himself pulling the kid up at a worryingly quick rate.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit. This kid weighs nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno and Wilbur exchanged concerned glances. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">5up and Fundy were in the middle of a lighthearted argument when the door to the agency swung open. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I told you, it’s better when you make it with butter.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why would I put butter on my garlic bread?” the fox hero’s ears twitched. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why wouldn’t you put butter on garlic bread?” 5up shot back icily. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I—“ Fundy was cut off by the jingle of door swinging open. The two bickering heroes turned to the door, temporarily putting their quarrel on hold.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Woah, is that a child?” 5up asked, pointing at the kid in Phil’s arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it’s a penguin.” Fundy retorted. “Yes, that’s a child.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil rolled his eyes, brushing past Fundy and 5up and setting the kid down on the couch.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Techno, give me your cape.” He ordered, extending his arm to his friend. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? No way, I’m not giving my cape to some snotty kid.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did I say you had a choice?” Phil chirped brightly, smiling at Techno. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, okay, jesus.” Techno unclasped his cape and handed it to Phil, who snatched it greedily. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, you’re the best, Techno!” Phil called as he wrapped the cape around the kid’s small form.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno shuddered. Phil can be so scary. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ranboo?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, Tubbo, dear?” Ranboo sweats nervously.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where is Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You get up at 5 AM! How did you miss him?” Tubbo shouts, raising his hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo flinches. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo grabs a fistful of his hair, sighing defeatedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry...” Ranboo says in a small voice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“‘sokay.” Tubbo mumbles, shivering in the cold. “Let’s go somewhere warm, with wifi, preferably. We can watch the news, maybe Tommy did something so stupid that he shows up there.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. absence makes the heart grow fonder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy gets some new clothes.</p><p>Oh, yeah. He meets his heroes too.</p><p>Techno wanted me to tell you that he is not attached to Tommy. </p><p>Under no circumstances should you believe the opposite.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Blinding white light burned Tommy’s retinas.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He squeezed his eyes shut, flinching away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Is this it? </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Am I dead?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He let out a strangled cry as he tried to move his body, but it wouldn’t budge.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Shit, shit, shit.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">He couldn’t remember anything. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">What happened?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Where was he?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Hey, kid...</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">was that Dream? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Come on, kid...</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Why was Dream here?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Where was here? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kid!</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kid, you’re scarin’ me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A blurry figure stood over Tommy, blocking out some of the light. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy let out a pleased sigh, letting his eyes flutter closed again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, is the light botherin’ ya?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy felt his body getting heavier. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe he could stay for a little while...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno felt the kid’s forehead. He was burning up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I gotta find Phil.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who the heck turned the lights off?” Called 5up, rounding the corner and placing his hand on the light switch. He jerked his hand back as a sword stabbed the wall next to him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do not touch that light switch.” Techno warned, eyes murderous. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">5up raised an eyebrow, but it clicked as he spotted the kid on the couch. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Didn’t take you for the type to be easily attached.” 5up chuckled, eyes glancing down to the couch.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno looked at 5up, then to the kid, then back at 5up. A red flush snaked up his neck and to his ears. “Speak of this, and you’re dead.” He hissed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry,” 5up whispered, opening the door slowly and slinking out of the agency soundlessly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bundle of blankets and Techno’s cape on the couch wiggled slightly, a muffled mumble could be heard. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s up, kid?” Techno asked, kneeling next to the couch.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“‘M hot..” the kid murmured, his forehead slick with sweat. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno’s heart gave a tug. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No. No it did not. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno gently removed one of the blankets from the couch and ran a cloth under the faucet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He placed the cloth on the kid’s forehead, and the kid practically melted into it, letting out a contented sigh. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno smiled softly, then promptly realized he was smiling, and stopped doing that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno pressed a hand to his forehead, muttering under his breath. He will not get attached to some random homeless kid. He is not attached to this kid. He is not. No sir.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno was startled out of his thoughts when the kid reached out, grabbed his arm, and held it to his chest, snuggling into it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno pressed his lips together, absolutely not surprising the urge to grin like a madman. He was definitely not tearing up from trying so hard not to smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was that bright light again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy groaned, attempting to close his eyes tighter. When that didn’t work, he reluctantly opened them, his vision blurry and his mind spinning. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Three fuzzy figures stood over him, and Tommy felt his blood run cold. He whimpered, desperately wanting to get up and run away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, kid. Don’t worry, we won’t hurt ya.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wait. Tommy recognized that voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy squinted. Then he blinked. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holy fuck.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is this Heaven? Did Tommy die? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">That is the Blade.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">He repeats. The Blade.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Blade.” Tommy slurred breathily, his eyes wide and unfocused.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The three heroes held their breath, not wanting to overwhelm the kid.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy struggled to sit up, his arms felt too much like jelly to be much help. The world continued to spin as he felt a pair of strong arms hook themselves under his armpits and prop him up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy turned his head to look at his assistant blearily.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was met with worried blue eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Philza.” Tommy gasped, not bothering to close his mouth as it hung open. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s me.” The Philza replied, waving slightly. Or Tommy thinks he was waving. He couldn’t really tell. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy reached out and touched Phil’s green-striped hat, stopping to just hold onto it for a second. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil squawked in surprise, his wings fluttering.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wings,” Tommy gaped, observant as ever. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The blue-eyed man eyed him quizzically, then lifted his hat and placed it on the boy’s head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy was dumbfounded by this. Flabbergasted. Absolutely astonished. Confounded, stupefied, even. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy doesn’t even care if he’s dead. This is the best afterlife ever. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is the best afterlife ever.” Tommy says, his eyes still fixed on the hat sitting on his head.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur snickers. “You’re not dead.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“‘M not?” Tommy asks, ripping his gaze off of the hat to look at the mysterious voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Holy shit.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No, really. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What the <em>fuck</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s the Whistle, the number three hero.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s lightheaded. He couldn’t breathe. He could faint.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wilbur, you fucken killed him!” Phil hissed, reaching out to catch the fainted teenager.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did not.” Wilbur scoffs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did so.” Techno teases. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sweat drips down Wil’s face. “Did I really?” he blurts, his words rushed. “He’s not dead, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil snorts, bemused. “No, he just fainted. He probably wasn’t going to stay awake for long anyway.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought you didn’t like kids.” Techno snickers.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur eyed his brother nonchalantly. “I don’t.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hell yeah, Wilbur. You played it cool. High five.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then why were you so worried?” Techno pressed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re telling me you wouldn’t be worried if you might’ve killed someone?” Wilbur sneers, narrowing his eyes at Techno. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Touché.” Techno responds, “But I’m onto you.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Onto what?” Wilbur says sweetly, a sinister grin spreading across his features. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno rolled his eyes. He could recognize fondness when he saw it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Namely because he was fond of the kid, too.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Who wrote that? I sure didn’t. He hated that kid. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lifted his head abruptly, his brain fuzzy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Where the fuck was he?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Last he remembered, he was shot by some dickhead named Dream, and then he met the explosive hero, Awesamdude — which was poggers as fuck — and, uhh..</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god Technoblade saved me from a villain.” Tommy gasped aloud, elation enveloping him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He let out a very very masculine squeal, bouncing in his... bed? What was this? He took the opportunity to look around, survey his surroundings. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Man, when he says it like that it makes him sound so badass. Like a hero. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">He loves heroes. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the corner, there was a desk with a monitor on it. It was more of a counter, really. There were two hallways in the walls across from him. A decorative plant sat in the unoccupied corner. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy squinted at the door, which was the only light source, its almost entirely glass surface letting the sunlight flood into the otherwise dark room.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was a very odd situation he found himself in. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The situation got even more odd, however, when the Persuasive hero, 5up walked into the room, holding a box of something. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hero spotted Tommy at the same time Tommy saw him, and his eyes widened a bit. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re awake!” He said cheerfully. “Welcome to the agency.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The agenc—“ Tommy cut himself off with a gasp. “Oh my god, is this the Top5 Agency?” Tommy spoke with urgency, his eyes wide. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holy fuck. The number one, two, three, four, and five heroes all gather here. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Who are they? Tommy’s so glad you asked. In order, they are:</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Technoblade, hero name Blade — or the Blade — his quirk is Deadly Precision. He has perfect aim to the point where projectiles correct themselves midair to connect with their target. It’s so cool, Tommy knows. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Phil, hero name Philza. His quirk? Bird. He has powerful — and beautiful — wings growing from his back, and his bones are significantly lighter than the average human’s. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Wilbur, hero name Whistle, (or The Whistle, you know the drill.) His quirk is called, well, Whistle. When he whistles, he can influence his opponents in a variety of ways, depending on the note and octave. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>5up, hero name... 5up. His quirk is Charisma. He can make anyone believe what he says, and persuade others to do things for him. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Fundy, hero name Foxtrot. His quirk is Fox. He has a powerful fox tail and acute fox ears. His hearing is extremely good. He can also jump higher and run faster than the average human.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Isn’t that just so kind of Tommy, giving you explanatory exposition. Now you can understand just how awesome the Top 5 are. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yup.” 5up answered. “You feeling okay?” The hero set down his box of things and strode over to the teenager. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, sir, Mister Five Up sir.” Tommy answered. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why do you say my name like that?” the hero questioned. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean, it’s Five Up isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, 5up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s what I said. Five Up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it’s 5up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Five Up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“5up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s what I said. Five Up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, that’s not—“ 5up sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Whatever. Sure.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, mister Five Up,” Tommy asked, leaning forward. “Are the Whistle and the Blade here?” Tommy practically buzzed with excitement. “Oh, and Philza too.” He added.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not at the moment,” 5up responded. “They’re speaking with the police currently.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Th-the feds?” Tommy sputtered, shocked. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The persuasive hero raised an eyebrow. “...yes?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh god, forget meeting my literal heroes, I’m not going back to jail.” Tommy stood abruptly, ignoring the fact that his head spun when he moved. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait,” 5up called. “Don’t leave.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why not?” Tommy asked, his tone cautious.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We need to watch you for side effects. Besides, the police know what you look like anyways.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, no.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is bad. This is so bad. Has Tommy’s life of crime finally caught up to him? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not going back to jail!” Tommy cries, dashing out the door, still clutching one of the blankets. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>“Tommy,”</em> 5up called in a melodious tone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh shit, that’s the charisma voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">“You don’t want to leave, Tommy. You want to come back.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy groaned, despite the fact that he was still running. Is that... how that normally goes?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Did 5up’s quirk just fail? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Whatever. He needs to get out of there, and find something to cover his face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lives below the poverty line, it’s justified. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he was sure he was out of sight, Tommy slipped into an alley, panting heavily. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He seriously needs to work out more.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy suddenly realizes he never actually got a look at the blanket he took with him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He squinted at it, it was quite thin for a blanket, and that shade of red seemed familiar...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The dots connected in Tommy’s brain as he read the tag on the end of the “blanket.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Property of Technoblade.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy could barely contain a squeal. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">thisistheblade’scapeohmygodholyfuckwhendidigetthisdidhegiveittomeohmygodimightpassoutthisisthebestdayever10/10wouldgetattackedbyavillianagain</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sound of police sirens jolted him out of his thoughts. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Oh, right. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Kinda on the run here. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Need a face covering. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy spotted a nearby dumpster and decided he wasn’t above dumpster diving. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ten minutes and lots of lost dignity later, Tommy was sitting on the ground with what looked to be a cardboard cutout of a bunny head and a sewing needle sticking out of his leg. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy would like to mention that he’s not vaccinated. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is how he dies. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Whatever. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Tommy examines the cardboard bunny. He could probably cut holes for his eyes and turn that into a mask. Plus, it would kind of match </span> <span class="s1">the whole pig mask thing Techno’s got going on. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could paint it white and red to match his hoodie. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno’s cape catches Tommy eye.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy glances at the sewing needle he had removed from his shin, and then back at the cape. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Idea.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now this is an epic gamer moment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With the help of a nearby craft store, Tommy now has an epic disguise. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What? No, he definitely acquired that paint legally. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Do you think Tommy would do crime? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Do you? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he looks like this? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Never.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>that’s my art! what do u think of the quirky!tommy design? </p><p>Sorry for the very drawn out chapter, just wanted to savor the moment.</p><p>Before I ruin it. </p><p>Smile</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. two halves of the same idiot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tubbo and Ranboo try to find Tommy.</p>
<p>Techno and Wilbur find Tommy, but they don’t know he’s Tommy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo yawned, already sick of the stares he was getting from patrons at the Starbucks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s probably the dirty green collared shirt with one button missing, but then again a lot of things about Tubbo would look out of place amongst the average Starbucks customer.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Listen</em>, he thought to himself. <em>You think I want to be here? Getting looks from judgmental pricks like you lot? No.</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No, Tubbo does not find that favorable.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tubbo, look.” Ranboo shook the exhausted boy’s shoulder gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With much effort, Tubbo lifted his head, and looked at where the taller boy was pointing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holy shit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You can say that again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Okay. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Holy shit. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s Tommy.” Tubbo mumbled breathlessly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This boy was the youngest of casualties at the scene,” the reporter spoke. “He appears to be around the age of twelve. He was shot by the infamous villian, Dream, at around 2 AM last Wednesday. Word from the police is that he’s in custody of the hero that rescued him, Technoblade.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo snickered. “<em>Twelve</em>? That’s hilarious.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s what you got from that?” Tubbo hissed, already getting up from his seat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re right. Let’s go find Tommy.” Ranboo agreed, briskly walking past Tubbo and ducking under the doorframe that was too short for him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The Top5 agency is all the way across town,” Tubbo panted, trying to keep up with Ranboo’s long strides. “Can’t you just teleport to it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I haven’t been there since I was a kid!” Ranboo protested. “I could end up being way off.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t care, now do it before I swap you with a fish at the bottom of a lake!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, okay!” Ranboo, ever so easily swayed by peer pressure, grabbed Tubbo’s hand and tried his best to narrow down the location of the Top5 agency. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What he got, though, was about a 5 foot drop onto the roof of a parking garage and a sky that wouldn’t stop spinning.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo groaned, sitting up and trying to restore the wind that had been knocked out of him. “Thanks, I guess.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Give me a minute.” Ranboo mumbled weakly. “Sky’s spinning.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, okay, I’ll just wait while Tommy might be in mortal danger. You want me to grab you some water from the CVS?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, please.” Ranboo responded, propping himself up on shaky arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was being sarcastic.” Tubbo retorted. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo walked over to the edge of the roof. “Can you teleport down there?” he pointed to the ground, presumably. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, sure.” Ranboo said, trudging to stand next to Tubbo.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, dear.” Tubbo smiled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo just sighed, and grabbed Tubbo’s hand once more. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This time, they landed on their feet, on solid ground. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good job!” Tubbo cheered, and Ranboo wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks.” He said plainly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Ran, look!” Tubbo gasped, pointing to something down the street. “It’s 5up! He works at Top5!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before Ranboo could respond, Tubbo took off running toward the Persuasive Hero. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Excuse me, sir! Sorry to bother you, have you seen a tall blonde-haired boy, really annoying, blue eyes, and was attacked by Dream on Wednesday?” Tubbo’s words strung together in rapid succession.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh...” 5up looked Tubbo up and down, and then Ranboo as he walked up to join them. “Do you two know that kid?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you have seen him!” Tubbo’s eyes lit up. “He’s our best friend and roommate, — well, garagemate actually — and we’ve been looking for him since Wednesday morning. His name’s Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy...” 5up repeated, the thought just now occurring to the hero that he never got the kid’s name.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, that’s it. So where is he?” Tubbo rocked back and forth on his heels. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um... well, he was at the agency, but he slipped my grasp and now I’m out looking for him.” 5up’s eyes met Tubbo’s under his spacesuit-like goggles.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo’s smile faltered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh. okay.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks anyways,” Ranboo said, disappointment not well-hidden. “Mr. 5up, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In Tommy’s defense, he wasn’t supposed to get caught. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bakery worker — Niki, was it? — was chasing him down the street, and she was gaining on him, fast.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Listen, lady!” Tommy yelled, his voice slightly muffled under his mask. “I’m just a hungry little kid! Can’t you just let this go?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t just steal because you’re a kid!” Niki panted, her pace slowing as he weighed the benefits of chasing Tommy further. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy noticed the lady’s pace slowing, and ducked into an alley to catch his breath. He scrambled onto the lid of a trash can, and onto the roof of the building next to the alley. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked down at the bag of baked goods in his hands and smiled to himself. Tubbo loves honey buns, and Tommy has eight of the damn things. Maybe now Tubbo will forgive him for running off and almost getting kidnapped by the world’s most dangerous villain. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stood up, brushed off his knees, and began to walk forward — straight into a wall. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy fell onto his back with a grunt, quickly scrambling to his feet and cursing at his stupi...</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">di...</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">ty.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Oh my lord jesus christ above that is The Blade and Whistle.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not a wall. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">No sir. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not the kid we’re looking for, but you are awfully suspicious.” The Blade spoke. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were almost definitely looking for Tommy, but they didn’t recognize him under the mask. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but promptly shut it when he realized that the Blade has heard his voice before. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">He could take advantage of this. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looped the bag of baked goods around his arm and backed up, raising his hands in surrender.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not one for words, are ya?” the Blade said, in his signature disinterested tone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy could barely contain the squeal he was desperately fighting back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I’m gonna need to see some ID, sir or ma’am.” he said, and Tommy noticed that he was clearly distracted, not keeping his eyes on Tommy, instead he was scanning the surrounding area with his eyes, as if searching for something. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy decided to use this, and he promptly turned on his heel and booked it the hell out of there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He jumped nimbly from rooftop to rooftop, a skill he had gained from doing this many times before. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hey, don’t look at him like that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was out of necessity. Mind your business. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Blade quickly noticed that Tommy was gone, and gave chase, Whistle in tow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s the matter?” Whistle called over the wind. “You don’t have anything to hide, do you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damn, the Whistle was kind of pretentious. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re kind of pretentious,” Tommy couldn’t resist saying, lowering his voice and concealing his accent as best he could. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You <em>fucker</em>,” Whistle growled, picking up speed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart dropped when he heard a high pitched whistle pierce the air. He prepared to do something completely out of character, but instead he just... continued running. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">First 5up can’t control him, and now the Whistle’s quirk is faulty too? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There must be something in the air that negates quirks or something. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy looked over his shoulder to check the distance between him and his pursuers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy almost tripped over himself in surprise.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He skidded to a stop to get a better look. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Whistle was stood motionless on a distant rooftop, and The Blade had gone back to check on his brother. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">What the fuck?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This week has been so fucking weird. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shrugged, and couldn’t help but let out a low giggle as he escaped the number one and three heroes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He still has his pastries too. The score is now 2 - 0 in Tommy’s favour.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That fucker just laughed at me!” Wilbur seethed, his face bright red. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno couldn’t help but chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not funny! Did you see what happened? He just— fucking, <em>resisted</em> my quirk or something!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I saw.” Techno said nonchalantly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the hell, Techno? I don’t know if you know this but that’s not supposed to happen!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m aware.” came his twin’s response. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh bugger off, Techno!” Wilbur fumed, turning and hopping down off the building. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know,” Techno said thoughtfully, following Wilbur. “This could be good. You know, to have a culprit to chase after so you won’t be so mopey about losing that kid.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was <em>not mopey!</em>” Wilbur practically screamed, his fuse shortening by the second. “But I do want to kill that bitch.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, take a deep breath there, hero.” Techno chortled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno was glad to have something to take his mind off the kid, too. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Again, I did not write that. That is a boldfaced lie, Techno doesn’t give a shit about that kid. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not a single one. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey! new chapter just dropped y’all coppin? </p>
<p>uhh if u wanna see more of my art (and doodles for this fic) my twitter is @vibesoda (:</p>
<p>if any of u want to make fanart of any kind, u should @ me there too, i would absolutely adore seeing it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy commits some crime for an oddly wholesome reason. </p>
<p>Oh, he also makes Techno say a swear word.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean, you lost him?” Phil demanded.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I mean,” 5up muttered. “I lost him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“‘nd we couldn’t find him either.” Techno added with a shrug.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god.” Phil removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Oh my god.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Oh no. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The twins shared glances with each other.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">5up watched them, eyebrows raised.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh, that poor bastard. He doesn’t know what’s coming. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur flinched in preparation for the lecture of a lifetime.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno hoped he would get out of this alive. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Silence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur peeked an eye open curiously. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil held a hand over his eyes, shaking ever-so-slightly. “Sorry,” he said with a watery smile. “Give me a minute.” He sniffed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, Phil — holy shit, dude — it’s okay, we’ll find him, don’t worry.” Wilbur lurched forward and wrapped his arms around the shorter hero. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno stood there awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">5up also stood there awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil slowly moved his arms to hug Wilbur back, still trembling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, ‘m sure we’ll find the kid, don’t worry. We have the police on lookout, too.” Techno offered, fumbling over his words. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” Phil sniffed. “I just don’t know what I would do if something happened to him. He’s just so young.” His voice wavered as he raised his head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Hey</em>,” 5up said sweetly. “<em>It’ll all be okay</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil blinked, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks.” Techno muttered softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">5up offered a small smile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Plus,” 5up added. “I have a lead.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“A lead?” The three other heroes exclaimed in unison, then immediately shriveled a little when they realized how excited they sounded.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yup.” 5up says. “His name is Tommy, and he has two roommates. Well, apparently they’re garagemates. I met them earlier, one’s kinda short, brown hair, wearing a green collared shirt. The other one had two-toned black and white hair, and dude, he must have been like 7 feet tall or something, he was like a skyscraper.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Tommy...</em>” Wilbur murmured. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks mate.” Phil smiles. “I’m sure that’ll help us a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was nearly sunset when Tommy trudged to the door of the garage, out of breath and exhausted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He heaved the garage door open with all of his strength, then promptly walked two paces in and collapsed into Tubbo’s arms.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy!” Tubbo exclaimed, catching his friend. “You’re back!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I am.” He murmured. “I got you honey buns.” He lifted the bag weakly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No way, honey buns?” Tubbo gaped, letting go of Tommy and snatching the bag from his hands. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Whoop. I am now... on the floor.” Tommy says, not even that mad about it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He wasn’t even that mad about it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Seriously, he was pretty okay with it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“‘m glad you’re back.” Ranboo chimed in sleepily, popping his head out of his sleeping bag. “Now can you guys shut up please? I’m trying to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I think I’ll take a nap right here.” Tommy mumbled, his voice slurred from his face being pressed against the floor.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Cool.” Responded Tubbo, who walked over to the mattress on the floor, honey buns in tow. “I’ll sleep in your bed tonight then. Way better than a sleeping bag.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever,” Tommy responded, already half asleep.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” Tubbo spoke softly, his voice shaking from the cold. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy made a noise akin to a verbal keyboard smash. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Big man.” Tubbo repeated.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wha?” Tommy murmured, lifting his head off the floor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We’re, uhh, in a bit of a situation.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You got laid off?” Tommy asked, huddling next to Ranboo for warmth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“W-well, no.” Tubbo shivered, “The support gear operation that bought from me got busted.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That is,” Ranboo paused. “Not good.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, <em>I know</em>.” Tubbo replied, shooting Ranboo a glare. “Now we don’t have a source of income, and no parents or anything to turn to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We’re gonna die in a cold, dirty garage.” Ranboo moaned. “I’ll never get to marry Tubbo and become a support gear tycoon power couple!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you want to do?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Ranboo spoke seriously. “What, did you think I’d want to be a <em>hero</em>? No way.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sighed, bringing his knees to his chest. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">If only Tommy had some sort of cool, flashy quirk. He could become a hero in no time, and then his fa— <em>friends</em> would never have to worry about dying of hypothermia in some fuckin’ gross garage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stood up, putting on his mask. “I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo looked up at his friend quizzically, but didn’t say anything. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was even colder outside the garage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shivered, unable to control the chattering of his teeth. He tugged the makeshift cloak made out of the Blade’s cape further over his arms, and pulled his hood over his head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The sky was overcast, suffocating the city in a gray mist. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">On days like these, Tommy wanted nothing more than to sit by the fireplace with his friends and chat about something meaningless. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">He doesn’t get that privilege, though.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He shook the bleariness out of his eyes, and focused on his target: The Manifold Department Store. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He hoped to find something he could use to warm his friends during the night. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Maybe a heated blanket? There’s no way he could haul a heater out of there without being noticed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As Tommy drew closer to the store, he noticed something odd. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The windows were... <em>shattered</em>? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy kicked at the ground. <em>Yup, those are shards of glass.</em> Tommy picked one that was particularly sharp and pocketed it, hoping he didn’t have to use it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Whatever was happening wasn’t going to deter him, though. He was about to enter the store when he noticed a familiar feather drift out the broken window. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy ducked out of the way of the window, his breath caught in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He let out a shaky sigh, and listened. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Look, mate, I just want to know where your buddies went. Promise I won’t be mad.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s breath hitched again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s Philza. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza. <em>Motherfucking number two hero Philza.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The winged hero, Philza. <em>PHILZA</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy could die right now and he’d be happy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be a little mad.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy almost fucking fainted. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">wasthatthewhistlewhyisheherewhyareeitherofthemherethisisthebadpartoftownwhytheeverlovingfuckaretheyhereagainholyshitohmygod</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wilbur!” The number two fucking hero chastised.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Wilbur? That’s the Whistle’s real name oh my god this is forbidden information, holy fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Okay, calm down, Tommy. Think.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">How to get in and get past them? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Wait for things to heat up, hopefully. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">So, Tommy waited.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not a snitch!” came a gruff voice from inside. Poor dude was scared out of his mind. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Not that good for Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Guess he’ll have to start some chaos.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy picked up a rock from the pavement and tried to aim it so it would look like it came from inside the store.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He took a deep breath, and chucked it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Right in the Whistle’s face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy snorted, barely containing his laughter. Tears streamed down his face as he held in his maniacal cackles. Tommy peeked through the window.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ow!” the Whistle growled, “You!” He pointed at the random guy, dressed in a black tracksuit, hands held up in surrender. “Which one of your buddies did that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I swear, it wasn’t me!” The guy pleaded, but it was obvious the Whistle didn’t believe him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil, <em>cover your ears.</em>” the Whistle practically barked, his eyes brimming with rage.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil did so, half-snickering as he did.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A high-pitched whistle filled the air, making Tommy flinch. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy opened his eyes, and gasped. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The guy straight-up fell to the ground, unconscious. Like, he was passed the fuck out on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">He didn’t know the Whistle could <em>do that.</em></p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wil, was that really necessary?” Philza scolded, lifting the guy up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil was caught halfway through the action by another guy dressed in a black tracksuit jumping over the shelves and tackling him to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy watched in awe as Phil effortlessly threw the dude off of him, and attempted to capture him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The Whistle was also caught off-guard by two more dudes jumping him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Now’s Tommy’s chance. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy barely took time to breathe as he rushed into the store, and past the two heroes. His heart raced as he rounded the corner, and got out of sight. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy took no time to catch his breath as he raced down the rows of shelves, looking for anything that could be useful. He let out a soft whoop of triumph when he saw a kiosk with tons of heated blankets on it. They were in quite large boxes, so Tommy could only take one, and he only hoped it would be enough.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">With that, he took off toward the back exit, the box under his arm. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He rounded the corner again, and...</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>almost ran straight into the Blade</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy could cry. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No, really. He wanted to cry so badly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We meet again.” the Blade said cooly, shifting his weight. “Didn’t expect to see you here, but I’m glad you showed up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gulped, frozen in place. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The Blade took a step forward, and that’s when Tommy remembered, <em>oh yeah, he should be running. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy couldn’t help but yelp as he turned and ran back into the store, his sneakers squeaking on the tile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">He could not afford to die here. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No, really. Tommy was flat broke. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ha ha. Tommy’s really good at humor when he’s in mortal peril. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Chalk it up to experience, he guesses. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Get back here, coward!” the Blade actually sounded, like, <em>really pissed off.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy was scared shitless, but also <em>oh my god, the Blade just yelled at him. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This is the best worst day of his life. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was a little late when Tommy realized he would have to go back past the other two heroes to make it out of here. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why was it too late, you ask? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh, because the Whistle was currently charging at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Nothing major. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Fancy meeting you here, dickhead!” the Whistle grinned with overwhelming malice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Holy shit, how is this guy a hero? Motherfucker’s terrifying.</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As the Whistle pressed his fingers to his mouth, Tommy decided to do what’s called a high-IQ big brain play. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A high-pitched whistle filled the air. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy took a moment to say a prayer, and fell to the ground, covering his ears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He made sure the hold onto the heated blanket’s box. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Look, Techno!” Tommy could hear the Whistle’s smile. “I <em>told</em> you it was just an isolated incident!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy could cry, but in a good way this time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Stupid hero fell for it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy kept his eyes closed as he heard the sound of steel-toed footsteps approaching. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He held his breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I fuckin’ caught you, you son of a bitch.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Again, this guy was supposed to be a hero, wasn’t he?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart jumped into his throat as he felt the hero wrap his arms around him and lift him into the air. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Does he think Tommy’s unconscious?</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Oh, this is gonna be good.</em> Tommy could barely hold back his smile as he made sure to subtly hold the box to his chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Man, for someone who hates him, the Whistle sure was holding him gently. He felt his body swaying as the Whistle walked outside. The cold air stung his skin, but the Whistle’s warmth was oddly comforting. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t wait to find out who this fucker is.” the Whistle giggled, setting Tommy against the outside wall. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Damn, you could have at least set him down somewhere that wasn’t covered in shards of glass. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Whatever. Beggars can’t be choosers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy peeked his eye open, watching as the Whistle turned to the two heroes that were still inside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy jumped to his feet, laughing. “Damn, you really are pretentious.” He called as he took off across the parking lot, his loot secured in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The Whistle gasped in shock, and then quickly started spouting off a string of profanities, while the Blade laughed breathlessly in the background. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Techno, help me catch this guy or I’ll <em>kill you.</em>” Wilbur hissed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno shrugged. Being stationed by the exit was pretty anticlimactic, so he would enjoy some action. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He chased after the masked criminal with trained precision. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy looked over his shoulder, barely breaking a sweat. His soul may or may not have left his body when he spotted the Blade sprinting after him. He pushed himself to run faster, praying he would lose the Blade by the time he got home. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno’s steel soles clanked as he crossed the road. He easily unhooked his crossbow from its holster, and aimed it at Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh god.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Oh no.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">The Blade is about to shoot Tommy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">So very not epic. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The polar opposite of a gamer moment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy squeezed his eyes closed, as he knew there was no dodging a shot from the Blade.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">At that moment, an arrow whizzed over his head, almost blowing Tommy’s hood off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy once again almost tripped over himself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Did.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Did he see that right? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Did the Blade just fucking miss?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No way. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Another arrow barely nicked Tommy’s cloak.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Okay, lightning never strikes the same place twice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The Blade just missed. <em>Twice</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy couldn’t believe it. He slowed to a stop, panting. He looked over his shoulder, and the Blade was standing about 100 feet away, frozen.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno, for the first time in a long time, was at a loss for words. His mouth hung open in shock. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Did that random guy just dodge his crossbow shot?</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream couldn’t even do that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Nobody</em> <em>could do that.</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit.” Techno cursed, voice barely above a whisper.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wow, that was so out of character.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy could barely contain his excitement as he pulled the crank to open the garage door.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Boys!” Tommy called, his grin wide.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo and Ranboo, who were huddled around Tubbo’s laptop, looked up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Check this out.” Tommy said, shoving the box into his friends’ faces. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No way!” Tubbo grabbed the box from Tommy’s hands, his eyes wide.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, Tommy, how in the world did you get that?” Ranboo asked, bewilderment painted across his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Crime.” Tommy grinned mischievously. “What else?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo nodded. “True.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Dude! This thing is huge!” Tubbo said, holding the blanket up to his shoulders, his arms completely outstretched. The blanket reached the floor, and then it folded over itself many times after. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Woah, that’s like queen-sized or something!” Ranboo commented, his mouth open in astonishment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s plug it in,” Tubbo’s voice shook with excitement.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Many hours later, the boys huddled together on Tommy’s mattress, Tubbo and Ranboo sleeping soundly under the warmth of the electric blanket. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Mission accomplished,</em> Tommy thought, grinning to himself, before he, too, drifted off to the best sleep he’d ever had.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey y’all...</p>
<p>yeah maybe i like writing a little fluff.. as a treat. </p>
<p>anyways follow my twitter @vibesoda for cool epic art </p>
<p>love u all</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. the streets run red with acrylic paint</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They’re still his heroes, but...</p><p>god, they’re annoying. </p><p>Can’t they just leave him alone?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo had to sell his laptop. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were down to their last ten dollars. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Tommy was so fucking hungry. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Water soaked into Tommy’s socks through the hole in his shoe as he stepped into a puddle. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The rain was relentless, it’s been raining for the past week. Tommy couldn’t afford to stay inside anymore, though. He had to find a way to get money or food, fast. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulled his hood down further over his head, flinching at the cold rain soaking through it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shivered, moving his wet hair out of his eyes. Something that caught his vision made him stop dead in his tracks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a picture of him on the lamp post in front of him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was definitely him, the poorly sewn together cloak, the cardboard mask with long ears protruding from it, the dark blonde hair peeking out from the hood, there’s no way it couldn’t be him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Wanted</em>,” it read. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy chuckled, tearing the paper off of the pole and tossing it into a nearby trash can. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lifted his head and <em>there was another one, on the wall above the trash can.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy whipped his head around, and to his horror, there were hundreds of them, everywhere. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The fuckers were <em>laminated</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>I just stole like, two things!</em> Tommy thought to himself, scowling. Is it a slow week for crime or something? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was probably that guy Wilbur’s doing. Dickhead’s ego was so swollen, only he would go to this kind of absurd length.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy kicked at a rock on the street, letting out a sigh of contempt. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t let some silly posters deter him, though. He was Tommy fucking Innit, it would take a lot more than that to break his spirit. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He continued to walk down the street, spying his favorite pizza place and hoping he could beg someone to buy him pizza or something. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Listen, Tommy was a little at a loss for ideas, okay? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As he passed the café next to the pizza place, he noticed customers on the inside glaring at him, pointing at him and — presumably — laughing. Tommy groaned, and shot them the bird. Their stupid faces scrunched up in disgust again, and they closed the blinds, the warm light from the café disappearing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shook his head, and reached for the doorknob of the pizza place. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry,” a teenage waiter stopped him, his voice nasally and pompous. Tommy towered over him, easily a foot taller. “We don’t serve criminals here.” He hissed with repugnance.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ouch.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Might as well spit in my face while you’re at it,” Tommy sneered, shooting the waiter the bird and chucking as he continued walking. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your kind belong in the loony bin.” The kid called after him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy turned, now a little annoyed. “First of all, that’s an insensitive and ableist term. Secondly, you’re not much better yourself, judging literal strangers based off of preconceived notions. You don’t know everyone’s story.” Tommy growled, crossing his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know enough, smartass.” The waiter shot back. “You’re despicable. Just get a job like the rest of us.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s hands shook. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You try being homeless and an orphan!” Tommy snarled.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t care about your tragic backstory, crime is illegal, that’s all there is to it, scum.” The stupid kid spoke with such self-satisfied arrogance, it made Tommy wish he had a quirk just so he could kill this guy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like you’d ever know what it’s like!” Tommy shouted, his voice shaking with rage. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Shit</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">People were staring. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The stupid kid looked scared, though. He scurried inside and Tommy took off running, kicking at rocks to blow off steam. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Great</em>. Now he was hungry, wet, tired, and pissed the fuck off. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next street over, Tommy stood on the sidewalk next to a couple conversing under an awning. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I heard not even the rain is putting it out.” The girl said.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really?” The guy responded.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, it’s a huge factory on the other side of town. There was an explosion or something, and now it’s on fire.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s terrifying, I hope everything turns out okay.” The guy said, and the girl nodded. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sighed. <em>A factory fire? At least maybe the heroes will all be over there. </em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a soup kitchen in the town over, but Tommy had no idea how to get there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Maybe Philza could fly me,</em> Tommy started to think, but Tommy immediately squashed the thought, and kicked himself internally for even thinking of it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s no way a hero would help a stupid, lowlife criminal like Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy decided to just head home, and deal with the hunger pains for another day. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He turned on his heel, just wishing he could be dry and fed, but he just didn’t have that fucking privilege. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">All because his parents were dead. Like he could control that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, you! Stop right there.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s blood ran cold, and he wanted to cry. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the winged hero, Philza, and the Blade, and the Whistle.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Out of instinct, Tommy started running, but he already felt like he was going to pass out. His legs felt weak, like they weren’t built to support his weight. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">There was a fucking whistle or something, and maybe an arrow flew past him, but Tommy didn’t give a shit anymore. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Philza was easily catching up to him with his wings, and Tommy had accidentally taken a wrong turn into an alley. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A dead end. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s called that because this is where Tommy dies.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy spun around, back pressed against the damp brick wall. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As if his day couldn’t get any god damn worse, he slipped. He fucking slipped, falling to the ground, and straight into an arrow shot by the Blade. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It didn’t hit him head on, but there was a huge gash on his shoulder, now oozing blood. Tommy winced, instinctively covering the wound with his hand.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where you gonna go now, dickhead?” the Whistle called, his voice bouncing off of the narrow walls. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">the Blade and Philza were standing silently behind him as he stepped forward, his arms outstretched. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy couldn’t take it. He lowered his head, curled into his knees, and sobbed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you crying?” the Whistle crooned, grabbing Tommy’s mask. “Scared of being found out?” Tommy struggled, kicking at the hero and trying to squirm away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The elastic snapped, pulling on Tommy’s hair harshly. He let out an annoyed hiss of pain, and tossed his damp hair out of his eyes, staring up at the hero, who was frozen in place. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“...Tommy?” the hero breathed, eyes wide and horrified. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How do you know my name?” Tommy barked, his teeth clenched. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I...” The hero stammered. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Answer me, <em>Wilbur</em>.” He growled, tears in his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“5up.” The hero said plainly. “He talked to your friends. Look, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what? No. <em>Fuck you.</em>” Tommy stood on shaky legs, his left hand clutching his bleeding right shoulder. “You don’t get to care now that you know who I am. You don’t get to take anything back.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Tommy</em>—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t fucking call me that!” Tommy screamed, his voice hoarse. “You don’t get to call me that. You stupid fucking heroes don’t care about people. You don’t give a shit about saving lives, you only care about yourselves, and the money you make if you meet your arrest quota. You don’t bother to learn our stories, to help those in need, ‘cause once you dub someone as a criminal, you don’t have an ounce of compassion anymore!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not like that,” Philza said softly, stepping forward.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Shut up!</em>” Tommy roared. “You have no room to speak, you fucking prick. You arrested both of my friends twice, and made us spend our last few dollars on bail. You know what happened, oh righteous Hero?” Tommy held his arms out in contempt, his eyes blazing. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We went hungry for a week.” Tommy said in a low voice, his hands balled into shaky fists.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Silence washed over the four of them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, but that’s not the end of this little story.” Tommy laughed dryly, pointing a finger at Phil. “You wanna know what you arrested them </span>
  <span class="s1">for? Do you remember, or were they just another set of criminals that you forgot about at the end of the day, cozying up in your fucking mansion?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“One,” Tommy lifted a finger. “They were<em> ‘out past curfew’</em>” Tommy surrounded the phrase with air quotes. “That’s barely even a fucking crime, and we <em>went without food for two whole days.</em> My brothers —“ Tommy didn’t bother to correct his language, he didn’t need to, “— blamed themselves for their hunger, saying they shouldn’t have been spotted. They should’ve stayed hidden.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy exhaled forcefullly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The second time, they were “trespassing on private property” because they couldn’t prove they were the children of the people whose graves they were visiting!” Hot tears streamed down Tommy’s flushed cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was just doing my job,” Phil said in a low tone. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah? If your job is arresting children for trying to visit their dead parents, maybe you should reconsider your career choices!” Tommy threw his hands in the air, exhibiting a pained smile. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, while I’m at it,” Tommy added, “If you truly wanted to save people, you would be at that factory fire across town. But no, you pursued a personal grudge. You’re no better than any criminal.” Tommy brushed past the three heroes; Techno reached toward the teenager to stop him, but Phil grabbed Techno’s shoulder, halting his movements.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let him go.” Phil said simply.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” Techno questioned. “We’ve been lookin’ for him for ages, and he’s right there.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s right.” Phil spoke in a sunken tone. “He can clearly take care of himself, right now is not the time to meddle further.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno sighed, but nodded. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur just stared at the mask in his hands, unmoving. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">What has he done?</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>angst,,, sweet angst</p><p>uhh sorry for this one lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. i’ll make it up to you, or die trying.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Phil, please!” Tommy pleaded. “Please get out of here, please leave. He’ll... He’ll kill you, I know he will!” Tears streamed down the teenager’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“If I can still stand at all, then I’ll stand between you and danger. I’ll protect you no matter what it takes.” Phil said firmly.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Alright, so picture this: </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Yesterday, you cussed out your literal heroes, and you’re still not any closer to solving your financial problems. </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Now imagine you learn that iconic supervillain Dream escaped from police custody, and is still in your city, looking for you. </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">In a state of absolute desperation you decided to turn to your enemy for help. </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Listen, if your supposed allies won’t help you, what else is a boy to do? </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Well, you don’t have to imagine, because your favorite unreliable narrator, Tommy, is living it.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">There’s also a slight chance that Tommy had found said iconic supervillain and one of his highly dangerous sidekicks. </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">By slight chance, I mean he did. </p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dream. 404.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve been looking for you. I have an offer to make you.” The teen’s voice shook, but he continued to sport a smug grin. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is that?” Dream replied, unmoving. 404, the spore villian, stood next to him, staring down Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll go with you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">404’s even gaze faltered. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmm,” Dream hummed. “What made you change your mind?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to work with you now.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that all?” The villain replied cooly. “You just had a change of heart?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I’ll work with you on one condition.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What condition is that?” 404 sneered, stepping toward Tommy, his presence sending a chill down Tommy’s spine, despite the villain being shorter than the teen.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy exhaled. “You pay me. I don’t work for free.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream cackled, dry and wheezing. His mask didn’t seem to muffle it at all. It echoed at full volume, filling the silence eerily.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And here I was, thinking you had a good head on your shoulders.” The villain jeered. “I’m a criminal, I’m not gonna pay you.” Dream unhooked his gun from his belt, and aimed it at Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stood frozen in place, as if his feet were covered in cement. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The villain moved his mask to the side, revealing iridescent green eyes, and countless gruesome scars. He grinned, cocking his head to the side. The moonlight sparkled off of his teeth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t read you.” The villain said calmly. “I’ve never had that happen before.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?” Tommy snarled through gritted teeth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess I could tell you.” Dream conceded. “I can read people, like open books. I know anything and everything about them. You, however, I can’t read you. That interests me. I won’t let you slip away this time.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy flinched as he noticed the villian’s finger move on the trigger almost imperceptibly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After a few seconds, when Tommy noticed he wasn’t shot, he opened his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, kid.” the Whistle slurred, meeting Tommy’s eyes before he crumpled onto the pavement in a matter of seconds. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart drops into his feet, his shaking legs giving out and dropping the teen to the ground. He drew a quivering breath, and exhaled shakily, tears welling in his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Wilbur</em>...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Blade dropped down from above, rushing to his brother’s side. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s not dead. It’s just a tranquilizer.” Tommy strained, trying and failing to get up.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instantly, the other villian, Error 404, turned in Techno’s direction, his eyes glowing red. He waved his hand at Techno, releasing red spores from his fingertips.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno’s face contorts in pain, and the hero drops to the ground, trembling fervently. His eyes were locked on the ground, wide and unfocused. Tommy wasn’t sure if it was sweat or tears that were dripping from his face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">404 smiles, leaning against the wall.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy suddenly felt extremely nauseous, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a whimper.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">This was it.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s gonna be responsible for his idols’ deaths, and he’s going to be taken by a merciless villain. He didn’t even get to tell Tubbo that he was the one who ate the last honey bun and not Ranboo, who just forgot about it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you needed me the most, but I’m here now, and I won’t let any more harm come to you, or Ranboo and Tubbo.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy felt sick to his stomach. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He recognized that soft, yet resolute voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sluggishly lifted his head. Why is Phil here? How does he know his friends’ names? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I remembered.” Phil said, “I remember your brothers. Sweet kids. I let them go. The police didn’t. I should have stopped the officers. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He paused for a moment, locking eyes with Dream’s unfeeling white mask.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You’re right, I don’t deserve to call myself a hero. That’s why i’m going to make it up to you. Right here, right now.” Even in the face of the world’s most dangerous criminal, Phil managed to smile.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Phil, no! Just let them take me! They’ll kill you! Look at what they did to Techno and Wilbur!” Tommy sobbed, unable to bring himself to look at the fallen heroes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you doing this?” Tommy’s voice was hoarse and small. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hero is silent for a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Stay behind me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hate to interrupt your bonding moment, but I’m in a bit of a rush here.” The villain narrowed his sickly green eyes, unsheathing a blade from its holster.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil jumped into the air, his powerful wings carrying him upwards. He aimed a kick at the villain, who simply ducked under the hero and aimed his own attack from behind. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil folded in one wing and turned around mid-air, landing on his feet in between Dream’s back and Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I did some research on you, mate.” the hero drawled cooly, “You only have two doses of that prototype tranquilizer.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The villain growled, slashing at Phil again. Then again.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil jumped into the air once more, hovering just out of Dream’s reach. “That’s awfully rude, mate. I wasn’t finished speaking.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream crossed his arms, glancing at 404.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“As I was saying. You just used the only other dose of tranquilizer you had. You have no way to incapacitate me or Tommy.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">404 stepped forward, but Dream stopped him, pointing at the struggling pink-haired hero on the ground. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Speaking of you, bud.” The hero flapped his wings powerfully, blowing 404 off his feet and sending him crashing into the wall. A sickening crack filled the tense air as the villain fell to the ground. “You can only use your spores on one person at a time, so it’s either me or Techno.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream snatched Phil’s foot, and threw the hero over his shoulder, causing the winged man’s left side to scrape harshly into the ground, before he tumbled to a stop a ways away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Waste all your time mouthing off like a self-righteous asshole, and see what happens.” The villain spoke with overwhelming hostility.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil lifted his head, slowly getting to his feet, and Tommy’s stomach lurched as he saw the blood streaming down the hero’s forehead. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He faced Dream on shaky legs, his blue eyes filled with something Tommy couldn’t quite identify. Whatever it was, it sent a chill down Tommy’s spine. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Phil, please!” Tommy pleaded. “Please get out of here, please leave. He’ll... He’ll kill you, I know he will!” Tears streamed down the teenager’s face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If I can still stand at all, then I’ll stand between you and danger. I’ll protect you no matter what it takes.” Phil said in a firm tone, his feet firmly planted on the ground. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">404 also got to his feet; his hold on Techno remained unbroken.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t do this!” Tommy begged. “Please! <em>Please</em>...” Tommy’s voice broke into shuddering sobs. “I don’t want to watch you die.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I won’t.” The hero said simply, burying his foot into the ground before lunging at Dream, faking left and causing the villain to fall forward.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil swiftly leapt into the air and delivered a swift kick to Dream’s back, knocking the air out of him. The villain scrambled back, but Phil kicked him in the jaw, refusing to give Dream an opening. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy watched in horror as Techno fell to the ground, gasping for breath, and Phil doubled over, shaking just as Techno was just seconds before. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream jumped to his feet, spitting blood on the pavement and wiping the corner of his mouth with his knuckles. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then, as quickly as they had reversed, the roles reverted back, Techno grimacing in pain once more, doubled over on his side. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the same sequence of events, Phil got to his feet again, shaking slightly less than before. “I see.” He murmured, pointing at 404. “You switched your spores’ target for a split second to give your friend an opening. Clever.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did I tell you about your stupid monologuing?” Dream howled, brimming with rage. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy would like to note that this villain was known for being calm and collected, even as he faced death. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream being this pissed off was absolutely unprecedented, and also fucking terrifying. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The villain snarled, swinging his blade at Phil with reckless abandon. Phil jumped out of the way, easily getting out of range of Dream’s attacks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This seemed to make the villain more angry, and he jumped at Phil again immediately, slashed the hero across the face, and cackled wildly once he saw the huge gash spanning from one corner of Phil’s face to the other. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil let out a grunt of pain, blood staining his clothes and getting in his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy cried out in terror, unable to form words. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just give up the kid, and I won’t kill you.” Dream said in a gravelly drawl, grinning widely.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kill me, and I’ll give up the kid.” Phil replied with a dry laugh. “How about that?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Very well.” Dream agreed, charging toward Phil again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil still managed a smile, blood dripping down his teeth. He jumped into the air, using Dream’s shoulder as a platform and sending the villain face-first into the pavement as he soared high into the air. He spun in the air, and aimed down, picking up speed at a rapid rate. His heels collided with the villain’s ribs, crushing them under his steel soles. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry to be so forceful,” Phil muttered over the now-unconscious villain’s body. “But you gave me no other choice.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno sputtered, taking in shuddering breaths as 404 released the spores and abandoned his comrade, taking off into the night. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Techno couldn’t stay conscious for long, quickly passing out from the long-endured pain. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil stood, heaving, with blood dripping from his chin, bruised and broken, but the victor nevertheless. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He towered over the fallen villain, his wings extended. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked like an angel of death. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>There’s a reason he’s the number two hero,</em> Tommy thought before he finally lost consciousness from the stress.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i promise there will be comfort next chapter. </p><p>at least i’m pretty sure.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. please don’t die trying</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Phil kept his promise, and kept Wilbur and Techno alive, too. It’s all over now, right?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I’ll make it up to you, or die trying.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Die trying?</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Don’t die.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Please, please don’t die.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I take it all back. Don’t die.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Forgive me, please.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Don’t make me deal with the weight of your life on my shoulders. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">You’re too damn heavy for that. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Like, seriously. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I would die. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Not even figuratively, I would cease to breathe.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">But also, like, don’t die I kind of need to apologize. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You can die after I apologize,” Tommy mumbled, sluggish and disoriented.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">As his vision focused, his breath caught in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Why was that stupid reckless hero softly snoring in the chair across from Tommy, with one of his stupid kind blue eyes covered by bandages?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The man stirred, his exposed eye blinking open. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Hm? What was that, mate?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, man, you look like shit.” Tommy snickered, grinning.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Wait</span></em>
  <span class="s2">. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Oh, fuck.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re alive, and you didn’t fucking tell me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Phil blinks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What?” was all he could muster.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Some friend you are,” Tommy rolled his eyes. “I thought you would tell me if you’re alive.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Phil cocked his head. Tommy giggles. He looks like a bird when he does that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“We were... both asleep?” The hero muttered, raising an eyebrow. “Are you feeling alright, mate?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">Asleep?</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">Huh? </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">Was that not real, just now?</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">You guys saw that too, right? </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The blonde guy, with the dumb wings and the soft eyes, right in front of Tommy. He died after Tommy passed out, didn’t he? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">Wilbur and Techno were crying.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Did you guys seriously not see that? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Wait</span></em>
  <span class="s2">. (Part two, electric boogaloo)</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Wilbur and Techno,” Tommy sputtered. “Are they okay? Did they die too?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Nobody died, Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You know my name!” Tommy gasped, shell-shocked. “How?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Holy shit, mate.” Phil muttered, his gaze of concern accompanied by soft laughter.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’m confused, what parts are real and what parts did I dream?” The teen stumbled over his words clumsily, sweat beading on his forehead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The hero stood up, and Tommy blinked slowly, watching the hero draw closer to him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Phil gently placed a hand on Tommy’s forehead, watching him closely.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Tommy sighed, suddenly feeling drowsy as he melted into the hero’s cool touch. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The hero drew his hand back, and Tommy was almost disappointed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Okay, Tommy will admit he was disappointed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>Is it hot in here for you guys too?</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Phil’s eyes widened in realization, and he snapped his fingers, pressing his lips together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Fever dream.” he said soberly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Huh?” Tommy breathed out, his vision unfocused as he gazed up at the hero. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re feverish, mate. You had a fever dream.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh.” Tommy murmured. “So you’re not dead?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Phil shook his head softly, smiling down fondly at Tommy. “No. I’m still here. You’re stuck with me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Okay.” Tommy thought for a moment. “I want to be stuck with you, actually.” He slurred, smiling dopily. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">The hero chuckled gently. “I want to be stuck with you, too.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Ssso.....” Tommy said thickly, “What did happen?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Phil’s face scrunched up in thought. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">There was a small period of comfortable silence, then the hero spoke again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Me, Techno, and Wilbur got kind of roughed up protecting you from a villain.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Me?” Tommy questioned, as if he didn’t believe the man. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yes, because we care about you.” Phil said slowly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You do?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yes, kid.” Phil smiled tenderly. “We always have.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh.” Tommy replied plainly. “I like you guys, too.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Go back to sleep, mate. I’ll get you something for your fever.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Promise you’ll come back?” Tommy asked in a small voice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s2">“Jesus kid, I almost died for you. Yes, </span> <span class="s2">of course I’ll come back.”</span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Tommy’s heart sank at the hero’s words. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Apparently it was visible on his face, as Phil quickly turned back toward Tommy, worry plastered on the uncovered parts of his face. “Did I say something bad?” He chuckled apprehensively. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t wan’ you ta die...” Tommy babbled, almost incoherent to the hero. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I won’t.” He said, and Tommy suddenly felt frozen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">“I won’t.” The hero said simply, burying his foot into the ground before lunging at Dream, faking left and causing the villain to fall forward.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Phil swiftly leapt into the air and delivered a kick to Dream’s back, knocking the air out of him. The villain scrambled back, but Phil kicked him in the jaw, refusing to give Dream</em> <em>an opening. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Techno suddenly fell to the ground, gasping for breath, and Phil doubled over, shaking just as Techno was just seconds before. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dream jumped to his feet, spitting blood on the pavement and wiping the corner of his mouth with his knuckles.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Then, as quickly as they had reversed, the roles reverted back, Techno grimacing in pain once more, doubled over on his side. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dream howled, brimming with rage. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">The villain snarled, swinging his blade at Phil with reckless abandon. Phil jumped out of the way, easily getting out of range of Dream’s attacks. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">This seemed to make the villain more angry, and he jumped at Phil again immediately, slashed the hero across the face, and cackled wildly once he saw the huge gash spanning from one corner of Phil’s face to the other. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Phil let out a grunt of pain, blood staining his clothes and getting in his eyes. </span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t,” Tommy huffed. “Please stop.” He sniveled, tears escaping his closed eyes. “Please, leave. Please, please please.” He sobbed, pulling his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Hey.” a soft voice broke through Tommy’s thoughts, and the boy looked up blearily, his vision obscured by tears.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, it’s over now. No need to be afraid. I’m okay, see? Wilbur and Techno are okay, too.” The figure had blonde hair, a bandaged wing, and gentle cerulean eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Phil,” Tommy spoke disjointedly, the syllables slurring together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Mhm.” The man said simply. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Wilby, Techsie.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Techsie?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Tommy nodded. “Is he okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“...Yes, I just said he’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“And Wilby?” Tommy asked, his unfocused eyes narrowing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“They’re both okay.” Phil confirmed, a soft smile traced his lips. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Good.” Tommy said, slumping back onto the couch. “Good.” He repeated, muffled by the blankets this time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Tommy listened to the soft hum of the air conditioning unit in the corner as Phil’s footsteps slowly left the room. He let his eyes flutter closed as he realized how heavy his eyelids were.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Tommy barely registered a cool presence on his forehead as he let out a sleepy mumble and curled further into himself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Sleep well, kid.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry for how short this one is!! i was sick yesterday and really wanted to get some fluff out aaaaaaa</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. six out of six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tubbo and Ranboo ask Phil to take them to Tommy. </p><p>He does.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”Tubbo! Get back here!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Ranboo’s footsteps echoed down the empty street, the early morning sun causing him to squint. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Catch me, then!” Came Tubbo’s breathy reply as he sprinted down the street toward the Top5 Agency.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on,” Ranboo huffed, his long legs allowing him to catch up to Tubbo easily. “You don’t have any proof that Tommy’s even there!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I told you that you didn’t have to come with me,” The more miniature teen replied, stopping to catch his breath. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not the issue,” Ranboo said pointedly. “I don’t want you bothering seriously injured heroes!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Too bad!” Tubbo stuck his tongue out.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tubbo!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ranboo!” Tubbo responded mockingly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god.” Ranboo held a hand to his face, punching the bridge of his nose. He felt a wave of drowsiness wash over him as he recalled how early in the morning it was. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Could you at least have waited until the sun was up?” Ranboo groaned, catching up to Tubbo, who had started running again.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Villains wait for no man, Ranboo.” Tubbo responded matter-of-factly, stopping at the door to the Top5 agency. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Villains need to sleep too, you know. You really couldn’t have waited a few more hours?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“As I said, you didn’t have to come along.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo rolls his eyes, “Someone has to make sure you don’t burn the whole city down.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“With how many times Tommy has been put in danger by this city, I have my right to,” Tubboreplied defensively. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo thought about this for a moment. “Yeah, you do have a point there.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo grins, “I always do.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo opens the door to the agency, loudly exclaiming that he’s there.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo almost faints from embarrassment, slowly inching closer to Tubbo, still unsure if he wants to take part in this.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, what can I do for you, mate?” A man with bandages wrapped around his head and an arm in a sling slowly walks up to the door, scanning Tubbo and Ranboo with his exposed eye. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Philza,” Ranboo says under his breath, instinctively taking a step back.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is Tommy here?” Tubbo asks loudly, standing on his tip-toes to try and get a better look into the building. “You know what, I know he’s here.” Tubbo tries to brush past Phil — much to Ranboo’s dismay — but the hero stops him with his good arm. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy was here,” Phil says, smiling at the boy. “He’s at the hospital now, though.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo’s eyes widen. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The hospital?” Tubbo asks hurriedly. “Is he hurt? Can I go see him?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hero pauses for a moment. “No, he’s not hurt. He’s visiting Wil- Um, Whistle and Blade. Yes, you can go see him.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo sighs in relief, then his expression hardens once more. “Take me to him.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, my god Tubbo not did not just ask an injured pro hero to drive you somewhere, I cannot do this, I simply cannot be here anymore.” The taller boy starts to walk away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Pfft.” Phil’s laughter makes Ranboo stop in his tracks. “Who said anything about driving?” He smirks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo’s heart does a flip in his chest. Is Philza implying what Ranboo thinks he’s implying? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo gapes, his eyes wide. “Surely not.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A chill goes down Ranboo’s spine. He’s not sure why. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir, — Philza — you’re hurt.” Ranboo says simply, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve got two perfectly healed wings.” Phil smiles, winking. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or maybe he’s blinking. Ranboo could not tell. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, wait wait.” Protests Ranboo, but he’s cut off by Tubbo. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh really, Philza, would you? That would be so cool.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s your brother right? I can tell you care about him. This is the least I can do.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo raises an eyebrow. “Brother?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, he said you three were brothers.” The hero confirms.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo’s eyes shine. “Awww, Tommy!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No way, Tommy said we were brothers?” Ranboo chuckles softly, shaking his head minutely. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, are you not?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Tubbo says, grinning. “Just best friends, but it’s so sweet Tommy thinks of us like that, don’t you think?” Tubbo spoke in a sinister tone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh no, I know what you’re implying and I don’t like it.” Ranboo objects, his eyes narrowing. “We are not holding that over Tommy’s head and guilt tripping him into making him do things for us.” Ranboo insists, making his stance very clear.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are no fun.” Tubbo pouts, crossing his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m immune to your tricks, Tubbo! I’m not giving in!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on...” Tubbo tugs on Ranboo’s arm. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’ll be fun!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it won’t.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Think of the rewards we would reap!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not budging.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uhh, sorry to break this married-couple quarrel you two have going on, but do you want me to take you to Tommy or not?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So badly!” Tubbo quickly turns away from Ranboo to face Phil.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo drags a hand down his face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, which one of you has better dexterity?” Phil asks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?” The two boys question in unison. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can carry one of you on my back, and one of you will have to hold on to my wrist. It’s not very far, so don’t worry, I won’t drop ya.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am not dangling precariously over the city.” Ranboo dictates, emphasizing his words with a hand gesture. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure, I’ll hold your hand if Ranboo’s too scared.” Tubbo volunteers, shrugging. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo huffs, but doesn’t protest. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo’s stomach churns as he clings to Phil for dear life, trying to ignore the feeling of the wind stinging his skin and tousling his hair. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He also tried to ignore Tubbo’s various cries of “I can see the whole world from up here!” and “Everything is so far down!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even as he made it back on solid ground, his slender legs wouldn’t stop shaking.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, Ranboo, was it? You can open your eyes now.” Phil assures softly, his words accompanied by quiet chuckling. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” Ranboo murmurs, unaware of the fact that his eyes were still squeezed shut. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That was so cool!” Tubbo whoops, his hands in the air. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hero smiles. “I’m glad. I would have carried you if my arm wasn’t so messed up, but it seemed like you enjoyed dangling like that.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, yeah! No harm done, absolutely.” Tubbo nods, straightening his wind-blown hair with his fingers.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s just go in the hospital.” Ranboo says warily, and Phil shoots him a sympathetic smile. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The three boys walk in, check in, and then proceed to stand nervously outside the room Tommy and the other two heroes were in. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You ready?” Phil whispers, and Tubbo shakes his head yes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo puts his hand on the doorknob, and pushes the door open. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ranboob! Big T!” exclaims Tommy, opening his arms and allowing Tubbo to crash into his chest for a hug. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil and Ranboo quietly enter, the latter closing the door behind them.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good to see you’re not dead, big man!” Tubbo says fondly, drawing back from the hug. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Told you he wasn’t dead.” Ranboo says smugly, but he couldn’t conceal the relief that shone in his multicolored eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry to interrupt,” Phil interjects gently. “But there are people sleeping.” He points to Wilbur and Techno, both asleep in hospital beds.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right,” Tubbo says in a small voice. “I just got excited.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No worries, mate.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are... they okay?” Ranboo asks, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Tommy answers. “the Whistle had an allergic reaction to the weird fuckin’ tranquilizer Dream shot him up with, and the Blade had some pretty bad burns from the spores that villain produced. They’re taking it easy. Fuckin’ losers.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil laughs. “But,” He adds. “They’ll be fine.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s good.” Ranboo nods, shifting awkwardly. “Sorry to just intrude like this.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t stress yourself, mate. It’s all good.” Phil waves a bandaged hand dismissively. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Phil, can we go get some breakfast?” Tommy asks. “I’m fucking starving.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry for the once again short chapter!! i’m still sick sigh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. ticking time bomb</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Unlike what others may think, you don’t forget. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There’s something about the sound of sneakers scraping across the concrete, the echoes of nearby voices, heaving breaths, and an innate sense of direction that inexplicably draws you closer to your destination. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You’re eerily aware of the beating of your heart in your chest, not unlike the ticking of a clock or perhaps a time bomb about to detonate. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There’s something to be considered about the voices from years past that begin to ring in your ears when silence settles upon you. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You don’t forget, and you can’t forget. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You remember everything. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sweat beads on your forehead. You don’t know how much time you have left. Historically speaking, eerie dream sequence premonitions aren’t the most straightforward communication method between a higher power and a human. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tick. Tick. Tick. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You have to be close. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Your eyes meet the eyes of your target, and your body relaxes for a split second. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy, was it? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You take a seat at a nearby table and listen to the boy as he eats his lunch. Or breakfast. Curiously enough, you were never that good at telling time.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There are two voices you don’t recognize. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So, you think Dream’s gonna come back again?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That one. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, probably. I don’t know anything about the guy, but he seems to have a lot of interest in Tommy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Him, too. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You quickly glance over at the table. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There’s Tommy and the pro hero Philza. He was injured last week while fighting Dream. You know a lot about Dream. You want to say something, but it’s not time yet. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Then there’s a short brown-haired boy, holding the hand of another taller boy with black and white hair.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You haven't seen them before, not even in your dreams. Perhaps it's because Dream has never met them? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A chill snakes down your spine at the thought of your mind and Dream’s mind connecting somehow.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s probably because of your quirk, mate.” Says the pro hero. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Did you hit your head when you fought Dream?” came Tommy’s response. “I don’t have a quirk.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“...Mate, yes, you do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Do you not remember when Wil and Techno’s quirks didn’t work on you?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Course I do,” Tommy replied with his mouth full. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The hero laughs, “That’s not supposed to happen, Tommy.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I know,” the boy says in a frustrated tone. “But the doctor told me that I don’t have a quirk. Are you saying my doctor is wrong?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe,” Phil responds. “I can’t imagine any other reason why you’d be immune to quirks like that. Unless your stubbornness goes down to your very core and somehow affected your DNA.” The hero laughs. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You sneak a look at the table, and your eyes meet Tommy’s again. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A sharp, stabbing pain goes through your skull, and you quickly squeeze your eyes shut, burying your head in your arms. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Where are your heroes now, boy?”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A flash of green consumes your vision.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“What did you do to them?” </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">You gaze into fierce blue eyes, burning with oxymoronic red-hot anger.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Nothing serious.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“You’re fucking lying.” Tears cascade down the boy’s face. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">A stagnant carved smile stares emotionlessly at you. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Yeah, you caught me.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">A loud sob interrupts the tense silence.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“I said you could take me as long as you didn't hurt them.” Despite his tall stature, the boy looks very childlike and fragile, his long legs shaking. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Mmm, but isn’t this so much more fun?” The green light obstructing your vision becomes unbearable. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You feel tears begin to escape your eyes. Everything hurts too much to stop them. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>“No!” the boy’s voice tears at your heart, rough and weak.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You try to call out, do something, anything. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You’re stuck because you’re not there.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why are you being forced to watch this? You physically can’t look away. You can’t get your eyes to open. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Help,” you say weakly, the pounding in your head overwhelming any sensible thought not to draw attention. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Mate, are you okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That wasn’t in your head. You vaguely feel someone shaking you. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Your migraine breaks, your eyes open, and you gasp for breath, drawing in brisk air in a desperate hope to calm your throbbing chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Your body trembles, but you slowly regain your senses as a kind hero gently rubs your back. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” You look up tentatively and meet the soft grey eyes of the black-and-white-haired boy. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, ” You reply, unsure. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You sure?” The boy says. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You glance to your left, and you see your target, ice-cold dread filling your veins. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry,” You say quickly. “I’ve gotta go.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Despite every part of your aching body begging you not to, you get to your feet and race back the way you came. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Your feet meet the ground dully, and you ignore your lungs’ desperate pleas to stop. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You duck around a corner, your chest heaving. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">If what Dream says about your quirk is true, it worked on Tommy just now. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Not good.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Your hands shake.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Not good in the slightest.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You cover your mouth as tears silently snake down your face. You slump against the wall, slowly falling to your knees. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Three pro heroes are going to die, and it’s all your fault.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tick. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tick. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tick...</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Tick tock, Karl; Time is running out.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>short chapter again because i cannot stare at my screen long enough to write a longer one. </p><p>sorry if the pov and perspective switch is jarring! i also went from third-person omnipotent to second person for a better atmosphere this time</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. the clock strikes twelve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Strange things happen when the clock strikes twelve. That kind of stuff only happens in fairy-tales, right?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">After they said their goodbyes to Phil, the trio of boys started walking home, the sun beaming warmly overhead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So, do you think you have a quirk, after all, Tommy?” The tallest boy asked, taking a long stride to turn and face Tommy curiously.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why do people keep asking me that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Seriously, he said this in the first chapter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t have a quirk. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream couldn’t read him, so that means he doesn’t have one. Case closed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, what if your quirk is resisting quirks?” Ranboo pressed, his eyebrows raised.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not.” Tommy murmured forcefully, “Tubbo, swap me and Ranboo’s places real quick.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sure thing, big man,” Tubbo responded, flicking his wrist at the two other boys. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy glared at Ranboo and then at the wall when he appeared in the spot where Ranboo once was. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo yelps softly at the sudden movement, faltering in his stride and grabbing Tommy’s shoulders for stability.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Get off me, you tall prick!” Tommy barked, shoving Ranboo away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Ranboo says, rubbing his temple. “I guess quirks do work on you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There you have it. Tommy does not have a quirk. At least not one that resists other quirks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What? Oh, are you confused?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Huh, Tommy swore he disclosed Tubbo’s quirk already. Well, Tubbo can swap the places of two objects as long as he can see them and people if they’re within five feet of each other. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He just swapped Ranboo and Tommy, proving Tommy’s point that he (Tommy) does not resist quirks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">We all on the same page now? Good.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, didn’t the doctor say you didn’t have one?” Tubbo adds, walking backward to face the others. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, he did.” Tommy crosses his arms, scowling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Huh,” Ranboo says, stumped.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe he was wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The three boys stop in their tracks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, shut up, will you?” Tommy commands, “Stop giving me hope, prick!” he punches Tubbo on the shoulder lightly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What if I’m right, though?” Tubbo continues, ignoring Tommy’s steely expression. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, what if?” Tommy repeats mockingly. “Shut up, man.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Seriously though, you could have one and just not know.” Ranboo chimes in, shaking his hands excitedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Drop it, or I’m going to knock those stupid red and green glasses off your dumbass face.” Tommy seethes, curling his fingers into fists. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“But wouldn’t you want to have one?” Ranboo asks, “Like, you want to be a hero, right? Or at least you used to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s icy blue eyes meet Ranboo’s for a split second, his brow furrowing intensely. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo chuckles nervously. “I’m just curious.” He grins uneasily. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I used to,” Tommy growls before turning away from Ranboo and resuming his walk home. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo quickly catches up, Tubbo in tow.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How come you don’t anymore?” Ranboo pursues naively. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Because I don’t have a fucking quirk unlike you two!” Tommy snaps, turning and digging his heel into the concrete sidewalk. “I’m just some homeless kid! I can’t even save myself; what makes you think I could ever save other people?” He cries through clenched teeth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“But you might!” Ranboo calls back, his eyes sparkling behind colored lenses.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shut the fuck up! Just stop talking right now!” Tommy yells, turning around with a huff and taking off toward home. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo glances at Tubbo curiously, who shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Just let him be,” Tubbo says finally, stepping forward with purpose and following Tommy, albeit slowly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo trails behind Tubbo apprehensively, his lips pressed together in a thin line. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy slowed to a halt in front of the boys’ shared garage for a moment before grumbling to himself and breaking into a sprint. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His lungs ached as he wheezed from the exertion, and he ignored the dull pain in his feet from his worn soles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He hastily wiped a tear from his eye — it’s from the wind irritating it — and pressed on, his arms swinging at his sides. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t know how long he’d been running, but he needed to keep himself busy—no time to stop now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He finally snapped out of his haze as he noticed the sun hovering just barely above the horizon, casting its final bow with an orange glow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He coughed, and he was suddenly aware of the searing pain in his legs, his muscles screaming. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He fell to his knees, his chest heaving as he hurriedly took in gulps of air. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He squeezed his eyes shut, sweat dripping from his forehead onto the pavement. He shakily rose to his feet and staggered over to a nearby tree; a quaint spot of grass emerged from the concrete to accommodate it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He collapsed against the tree, letting his head fall back against the bark. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shit,” he murmured breathlessly, noting the dryness of his mouth and cursing once more. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t have any water. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Not pog. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His vision blurred, the empty branches of the tree blending in with the deep scarlet sky.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy supposes he could take a nap here. At the moment, it seems like he doesn’t have a choice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Your eyes widen at the sight of the old clock tower, and you duck behind a building once more. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Glimmers of gold begin to flicker at the edge of your line of sight. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The clock gongs once. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Then twice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You feel out of breath; Your eyes burn as if you can’t close them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A third gong sounds. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You touch your face, now damp with tears, and draw your hand back apprehensively. Your finger shimmers with the luster of precious metal. Your breath catches in your throat, and you cough, tears escaping from your eyes more steadily. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Molten gold drips onto the pavement. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Was that the seventh gong just now? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A splitting headache caresses your temples with its poisonous touch. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You see gold sparking off of your hands and arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Swirls of gold fill your vision.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The clock tower gongs a twelfth time; your hands shake vehemently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You squint, trying desperately to make out the time on your watch. Gold flakes off on your hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">12 A.M.</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"> It reads. Not good.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, dude, are you okay?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Your heart twists nauseatingly; you slowly lift your gaze to meet the boy’s. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” you manage to croak. “Get out of here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OKAY HERE this is not a repost this is an actual chapter woo please leave a comment it makes me so so happy &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. glitter and gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>trigger warnings: (contain spoilers)</p><p>Implied Death<br/>(Dart) gun violence<br/>Blood</p><p>let me know if you want me to tag anything else !!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Swirls of gold fill your vision.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The clock tower gongs a twelfth time; your hands shake vehemently. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You squint, trying desperately to make out the time on your watch. Gold flakes off on your hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><em><span class="s2">12 A.M.</span></em> <span class="s1"> It reads. Not good.</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, dude, are you okay?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Your heart twists nauseatingly; you slowly lift your gaze to meet the boy’s. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” you manage to croak. “Get out of here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck is happening to you?” Tommy shouts, then interrupts himself. “Wait, how do you know my name?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“The news,” you respond with a cough. “I learned about your encounter with—“ you interrupt yourself to cough once more, gold sparks falling to the ground. “With Dream.” you finish. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” Tommy says. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I uh... have a question to ask you.” you say quickly, before adding, “If you don’t mind.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The boy rubs his eyes as if he had just woken up and squints at you. “Sure, but seriously are you okay?” He gestures vaguely at you. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” you murmur hoarsely. “This is the result of a mutant quirk.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy seems to falter for a moment. He stares quietly at the ground, his eyes unfocused, spacing out.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You cough involuntarily, and he jerks back to attention. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry,” he mumbles. “It's just... You say you have a mutant quirk.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You nod in response. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Dream said I might have one of those,” Tommy spoke slowly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I know,” you say as your headache comes to a crescendo. You squint, unable to see Tommy through your unfocused vision. “Oh no,” you mutter miserably. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What’s wrong, man?” Tommy reaches for you, but you instinctively step back, weakly raising your hands. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t touch me,” you stammer. “I don’t know what it’ll do.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?” Tommy responds in a low tone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh,” you stumble over your words, unsure of where to start. “You know how quirks usually have limits that your body won’t physically let you go past?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods, a puzzled expression adorned his face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, my quirk isn’t exactly, um, normal. The genes or whatever are mutated, hence the name.” you chuckle dryly. “This is... the result of a mutant quirk growing past its limits. Mutants don’t follow the rules of normal quirks. In other words, we have no idea what they’re capable of. That’s what makes me — and you — so valuable to villains like Dream. Um, but if I can’t figure out how to control it, it’ll keep growing in energy and power until it kills me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s face pales. “Could that happen to me, too?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You shake your head, amber tears splashing onto the wall of the nearby building. “I’m not sure. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to, uh, warn you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gulps, his eyes wide. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, um, do you think that a mutant quirk could, like, hide from doctors, so they don’t think you have a quirk?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We have no idea what they’re capable of.” You repeat. “So, yes.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dream might be right.” Tommy mumbles, his fists clenched tightly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What exactly did Dream say to you?” You ask with a strained voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pauses for a moment. “He said that when people don’t have a quirk, he can tell by reading them or whatever. He said that he couldn’t read me, though. He said it must be a mutant quirk, but I thought he was just nuts.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When there isn’t a quirk, I read no quirk. But you... I can’t read you at all.” you say in your best Dream impression. “Something like that, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bites his lip, stepping back instinctively.“How did you...?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You gesture vaguely to the gold streaks running down your face and the glowing pocket watch hanging around your neck, and Tommy seems to understand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Weird quirk thing, huh?” Tommy chuckles softly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, not exactly. I met Dream, </span>
  <span class="s1">too. He said something similar to me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s face goes stark white. His hands shake, and his expression darkens. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You delve into a coughing fit, coating the ground in gold. You suppress the urge to sob from the pain. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you working for him or something?” Tommy says grimly as you slump against the wall, cornering you at the end of the alley.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You stare up at him blearily. “No,” you murmur weakly. “Quite the opposite. He tried to kidnap me as he did you, but, um, I don’t remember what happened. Which is odd because I usually remember everything. I thought it might have something to do with my quirk, so when I saw you on the news, I wanted </span>
  <span class="s1">to talk to you to see if I could help you or, um, vice versa.” The words tumble out of your mouth clumsily. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy seems to believe you. His gaze softens, and he steps back, holding out his hand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You reach out and take his hand instinctively before gasping in surprise as you feel like you’ve been thrown into the air. You notice your eyes had closed, and you can’t get them to open. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You faintly feel tears running down your cheeks as you make out voices through the fog in your brain. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing here so late in the evening?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Your vision flashes briefly, a faint image of a carved smile imprinted on your eyelids.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s only 1 AM.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh, honk.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">1 AM? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s Tommy’s voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You thought you had more time than that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You feel someone shaking you. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You gasp, not taking time to breathe as you desperately try to save Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, listen to me! This only happens when it hits midnight on the day that one of my visions happen! I just had one with you in it, where you meet Dream at 1 AM, and then he kills the top three heroes! You have to break the sequence! You have to get out of here; you have to stop it; I’ve never been able to do it myself, please—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You take a shuddering breath as Tommy interrupts you. “Woah, slow down there! What do you mean? Dream kills the top three heroes? What’s that about a vision?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You feel so lightheaded that you might pass out. You fall to your hands and knees as you desperately try to catch your breath. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Tommy says more forcefully this time. “You better not be messing with me!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not messing with you!” you sputter, your mind swimming. “I have these, these visions, I think they’re part of my quirk, and I see things that are about to happen, and no matter how hard I try, these visions always come true. On the day that the vision takes place, my quirk overheats or something and does this.” You quickly gesture to your miserable condition. “It happens at 1 AM tonight. Dream kills all three top heroes. You have to get out of here and break the sequence.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at you in shock for a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You blink, the pain in your head almost becoming too much to handle. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve gotta be fucking with me,” Tommy says, scowling. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do I look like I’m fucking with you?” You cry desperately, your voice breaking. “Please, you have to believe me; I can’t live with this happening again.” Your voice is hoarse and watery; your arms shake as they barely support your weight. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is a lot of theatrics for a prank.” Tommy mumbles. “Okay, I’ll get out of here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The knot of intense dread in your chest begins to unwind, and you relax, your arms giving out under your weight. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you,” you whisper, out of breath. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A heart-wrenchingly telltale gong sounds from above you, and you let out a sob. You would rather die than see this happen again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not when it’s all your fault.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s one in the morning.” Tommy whispers, almost unconvinced of his own words. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You groan, your headache slowly subsiding as the hour has passed over. The gold on the pavement flickers out, and just like that, all evidence of your presence dissipates. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You look up blearily and you almost faint. Tommy’s eyes are wide, his face painted in a ghostly white. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A grim knot of dread hardens in your chest, and your breath catches in your throat. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing here so late in the evening?” Your vision comes true right before your eyes once again as Dream steps into view.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s only 1 AM.” Tommy murmurs, trying to buy time as he glances helplessly at you. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream follows his gaze, and your eyes connect with his mask’s beady carved dots. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Karl!” The villain claps his gloved hands together. “This is great! Now I can capture both of you! It’s two for the price of one.” He laughs heartily, extending his arms out to his sides. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, fuck.” Tommy mutters under his breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The hero’s breath escapes his lungs all too quickly as he races down the empty street, his footfalls echoing across the expanse, bouncing off of walls and into the crisp night air. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The risks he’s taking right now are so stupidly dangerous. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Yet he’s got an awful feeling about tonight, as if Dream was going to strike again.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">His wing hadn’t healed yet, neither had his arm. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">This is just a suicide mission, Phil admits, but he remembers the promise he made to Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p3">
    <em> <span class="s2">If I can still stand at all, then I’ll stand between you and danger. I’ll protect you no matter what it takes.</span> </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’ll keep his promise at all costs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Wilbur and Techno hadn't woken yet, so it’s all up to Phil. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Upon his next exhale, his breath was shaky and unregulated; his muscles ignite with strain, but he only blinked forcefully, ignoring the sweat infiltrating his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The thin atmosphere felt as if it was 100 Celsius — 212 Fahrenheit for you Americans — because he swore his sweat was evaporating off of his forehead as he raced down each street.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It was just empty alleyways and roads, one after another. The crows Phil would usually hear squawking away around this time were eerily silent. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dread hung in the air like a suffocating layer of smoke. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil coughs, stumbling slightly in surprise as the cough wracks through his chest painfully. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Shit,” he mutters breathlessly, bending down and resting his hands on his knees, taking in gulps of air at an alarming rate. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy needs me,” he whispers neurotically, fighting his aching legs as he continues to hurry down each street, diligently checking every alleyway and cul-de-sac. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">His heart leaps out of his chest as he notices a single dark blade resting on the concrete outside of an alley. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A black knife. Dream’s signature weapon. It looks the same as the one they recovered from Sam. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">There is no room for doubt; Dream is here. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A glacial chill causes Phil to freeze dead in place as he hears a voice calling weakly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, Dream, we can talk about this, okay? Just put the gun down. You don’t have to hurt Karl; you can knock him out, right?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No, I’m not going back there. I’d rather die.” Phil doesn’t recognize that voice. Has Dream kidnapped people before? Surely he’d hear about that, right? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Wait.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Back up a bit. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The first voice; that’s Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Oh, Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil’s breath hitches, and he suddenly feels nauseous, tears threatening to escape his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Anyone but Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Well, he <em>means</em> Tommy is just like any other civilian. He is just doing his job. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2"><em>That’s right</em>; he tells himself as he steps into view of Dream, who was pointing his gun at something. This is just his job. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Phil,” Tommy cries miserably. “Not you, too. Please.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The other person — Karl, was it? — was being held at gunpoint by Dream. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl pales to a ghostly white, his eyes shimmering an unearthly amber color for a moment.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No, no, no...” Karl mumbles. “No, you have to leave. You can’t be here!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl’s eyes and movements are erratic. His face was slick with sweat.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">He steps toward Phil, but Dream waves the gun at him, finger hovering over the trigger. “Don’t move a muscle.” The villain says darkly.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">Karl’s back thumps against the wall harshly, and he slowly covers his face with his hands, his body shaking wildly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No, please.” He murmurs defeatedly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream turns to Phil, aiming his gun at the hero. “Mind getting out of here, or will I have to kill you for good this time?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl seems to stir at this, lifting his head. “Phil! You have to make sure the two other heroes don’t come here, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You mean Wilbur and Tech—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil is cut off by the force of a large dart striking him square in his chest, knocking him backward into the street. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He crushes his other wing under the weight of his fall, and he hisses in pain. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He tried to stand, but it felt like something heavy was weighing on his chest. He grits his teeth, struggling to get on his feet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Make yourself useful and die already.” Dream spits, and Phil registers a faint thump on the side of his head before a comforting void envelops him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy screams, he screams so loud his voice breaks, and the effort burns his throat. Even when his vocal cords give out, he continues to spout every swear he knows incoherently. His eyes burn with hot tears, never being able to see clearly through them for more than a second.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl bites his lip, tears silently slithering down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“How could you?” Karl spoke bitterly, his voice barely above a whisper. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, Karl, naive little Karl.” Dream says, and Tommy can hear his wild grin. “You don’t ever seem to get it, do you?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl slowly gets to his feet and stands firmly in front of Dream, despite the villain towering over him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t give a single fuck about your stupid morals!” He laughs, poison laced his soft wheezes. “I don’t care! Do you understand? Do you think I care about compromise or fairness? I’ll do whatever I can for power! I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you, but <em>I’m not a hero, Karl!</em> I’ll kill whoever gets in my way.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl stands on shaky legs, between Tommy and Dream. “Kill <em>me</em>, then.” molten hatred oozed from his words, challenging the villain.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Okay,” Dream says easily, pointing the gun at Karl and pulling the trigger.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A sickeningly familiar whistle floats through the deadly silence, and Tommy lets out a despairing sob. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream whirls around as he pulls the trigger, the large dart connecting with Wilbur’s chest instead. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You stupid heroes!” Karl tries to shout, but it comes out as more of a hoarse groan, his knuckles turning stark white as he clenches his fists. “Stop sacrificing yourselves! You’re playing right into his hands!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl watched as the number three hero offered a sullen smile before he sinks to his knees, his eyes glazed over. Karl looks away as he hears the hero hit the ground, molten gold tears beginning to stream down his features. He lets out a hiss of resignation, pressing his lips together. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Blade,” Karl says with a bitter cadence. “I know you’re here. Get out of here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Now, why would I do that?” The Blade says nonchalantly as he jumps from the nearby rooftop, landing on his feet nimbly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Techno,” Tommy whispers, taking a step toward the hero. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Did you forget what I told you?” Dream says evenly, his gaze from behind the mask still fixed on Techno. “Move, and you’re dead.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy grits his teeth, hissing in resentment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream points his gun at Techno and pulls the trigger with eerily familiar ease. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Techno quickly jumps out of the way and lands directly in the trajectory of Dream’s second gun, in his left hand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl and Tommy both look away, wincing with an emotion that can only describe itself as gut-wrenchingly bitter resignation. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">They both knew this would happen. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Your heroes are painfully easy to predict.” Dream says with a flick of his wrist as Techno slumps to the ground. “Idiot number two over there,” he points to Phil, “Is in the way of your escape path. Idiot number three—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream gestures to Wilbur.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“—Is in the way of the entrance. Tommy and Karl are over here at the other end of the alley, and here I am in the middle. Your kind can’t risk stepping on one of your comrades or run the risk of my misfire hitting one of the poor hostages over here.” Dream turns to Tommy and Karl, motioning where Techno laid on the floor. “That leaves the only open spot right there.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl trembles with rage. “You have no right to do that to them. They’re just helping people.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You’re right,” Dream confirms as he moves his mask out of the way, baring his sharp canines. “I have no right. That’s what makes it so fun.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“So, Tommy,” Dream grins wildly. “Where are your heroes now, boy?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl’s heart sinks into his feet, burying itself into the concrete. His throat is dry; he feels as if he can’t breathe.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Your next line is, <em>“what did you do to them?”</em> Karl thinks to himself bitterly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“What did you do to them?” Tommy barks, confirming Karl’s hapless suspicions. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl sighs and turns to look at Tommy. He gazes into fierce blue eyes, burning with oxymoronic red-hot anger.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Nothing serious.” Dream responds.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You’re fucking lying.” Tears cascade down the boy’s face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A stagnant carved smile stares emotionlessly at Karl as it sat on the side of Dream’s head. “Yeah, you caught me.” Dream snickers almost childishly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A loud sob interrupts the tense silence.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I said you could take me as long as you didn't hurt them.” Despite his tall stature, Tommy looks very childlike and fragile, his long legs shaking. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Mmm, but isn’t this so much more fun?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No!” the boy’s voice tears at Karl’s heart, rough and weak. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl didn’t even notice the gold flickering off of his body, accompanied by gold freckles scattered across his neck and hands. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream’s attention is focused on Tommy as he continues his tirade. “Now, which one of these has the tranquilizer?” He scrutinizes his ammunition.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl falls to his knees as his head begins to throb torturously. It feels as if someone was trying to mine the gold out of his head with a pickaxe. He shudders, placing one hand on the pavement for support, with the other gripping his scalp. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He feels as if his body is tearing itself apart from the inside. His breathing is barely enough to stay conscious; sweat beads on his forehead, and he tries to close his eyes even harder. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Please. <em>Please</em>. Karl thinks, grabbing the pocket watch hanging uselessly around his neck (the hands stayed unmoving at 12 o’ clock.) and smashing it on the ground with a desperate sob. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Swirls of iridescent gold dance across his eyelids, and Karl can feel the hair on his arms stand up, the energy in the air prickling around him like electric static. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Then, as if waking up from a dream, the pain subsides. Karl doesn’t feel anything at all.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">That lack of feeling only lasts for a moment, as he feels the sudden sensation of being tossed around in a washing machine of some sort. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl opens his eyes to pitch darkness as he tumbles through the vast expanse, his stomach fluttering as if he was falling from a great height.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Finally, he sees the open night sky again as he lands unceremoniously onto the ground that strangely feels like a waxed gymnasium floor. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He gets to his feet, and his mouth drops in shock. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He blinks, registering the scene before him. Dream stands stock still in front of him; gun pointed straight at his head. He looks to his left and sees Philza, the number two hero, frozen in place mid-stride. He looks at Tommy, who is pressed against the wall, gazing fearfully at Dream, his expression unwavering. They were all frozen in place, as if someone had paused a movie. Even a falling teardrop hung suspended in the air.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">Karl sneaks a look at the clock tower, the hour hand pointing directly to the one; the minute hand stood still a little beyond the twelve.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">It was just a few minutes after 1 A.M.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">Did Karl just accidentally <em>travel back in time?</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl gingerly reaches out and touches Dream, quickly drawing his hand back with a flinch as he braces for something to happen. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Instead, it’s just silent. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl peeks open his eyes and takes an uneasy step toward the approaching pro hero. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl surmises that the moment depicted before him was before any of the pro heroes had arrived. He still had a chance. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He could save their lives. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl was wrong about it before; he was capable of breaking the sequence. It has to have something to do with smashing the now-intact pocket watch that hung around his neck. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">This must be his true power.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">His footsteps don’t make a sound as he reaches Phil, gently running his fingers along the hero’s wings. They ruffled under his touch, then immediately bounced back to their original position. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl runs back to the alley, noticing a sparkling gold aura outlining where he once stood, in front of Dream. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">He stares at it with wide eyes, recognizing the outlines of his hands held up in surrender, just like he stood before Phil showed up. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl takes a deep breath and examines Dream. Only one hand was holding the gun; the other was placed on his hip. Karl could easily knock it out of his hands. Then, he would have to try to apprehend Dream without hurting Tommy or allowing Dream to reach his other gun. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">In other words, he had to put Dream’s hands out of commission as quickly as possible. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl winced as he realized what he had to do, but he reminded himself what the stakes were, and he exhaled the breath he was holding, planting his feet and placing his body exactly where it was when the scene around him took place. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">As soon as Karl could feel the wind on his skin again, he ducked under Dream and kicked his hand off of his hip while simultaneously punching the villain in the stomach with a desperate cry. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“What the—“ Dream spoke as he lost his balance, falling onto his hands with a sickening crack of bones breaking. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Karl bit his lip with a squeamish flinch, watching the villain uselessly try to prop himself up with his hands. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Sorry, so sorry,” he muttered to no one in particular as he grabbed the villain’s shoulders with a shudder, pulling them together as hard as he could. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You,” the villain growled, eyes wide and strained. “<em>You idiot. You used your quirk.</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The sound of boots skidding to a stop echoed from behind Karl, and Phil dashed up to Karl and Dream, gently pushing Karl aside as he handcuffed the villain with his free hand with practiced ease. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Wow, you made quick work of him,” Phil said, patting Karl on the back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The force of the hero’s hand hitting Karl’s back knocked the small amount of breath that Karl has left out of his chest, and he collapsed to the ground, gasping. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Thank you,” Karl murmured after a few seconds of coughing his lungs out on the ground. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The sinking sludge of dread in Tommy’s chest slowly drained out of him, relief flooded his veins and he sighed heavily. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">Karl was wrong; Tommy’s heroes live another day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">Hold on, don’t look at him like that. Those are my words, not Tommy’s. Definitely.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">I will make this distinction clear: those three pricks are <em>not</em> Tommy’s heroes. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">Nothing has changed; he still hates their guts.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">Yet Phil’s kind eyes peering affectionately down at him made him feel so fucking <em>safe</em>.</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>another short chapter agh sorry i write these all in one go and my attention span is not that long</p><p>didja see this coming?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. just doing his job</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At the end of the day, Phil has no obligation to interfere with citizens’ lives. So what does he do with the pain in his chest at the thought of leaving Tommy by himself?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It’s about thirty minutes later, maybe 1:35 AM. The Blade and Whistle showed up a few minutes earlier along with the police, who took Dream away in this colossal high-security van; it was nuts.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Anyway.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Things were wrapping up. It’s time to go now. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Karl.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl turns, remnants of gold still lingered on the corner of his mouth. His shoes scraped to a halt.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Where are you going?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl’s eyes widened. “Home?” he said, unsure.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tommy smiles softly, crossing his arms and glancing at Karl’s beat-up shoes. “Mhm?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl smiled sheepishly.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tommy extends his hand lazily. “You can’t just take down Dream and not expect his accomplices to come after you. You should come with Phil and me.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl smiles. “I’m sorry, but I think I’ll endanger you. I can handle myself.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Can you?” Technoblade’s monotonous voice chimed in, the hero striding into the alley cooly.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, right,” Karl murmurs under his breath. “Whistle and Blade were supposed to show up, too. Now that Dream’s been taken in by the police; they’re safe now as well.” He gingerly reaches for the pocket watch hanging around his neck. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Who’s this kid, and why is he talking to himself like he’s the main character?” Wilbur peeks his head into the alley where the four of them stood, his arms covered in bandages. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey! I just saved your life!” Karl barks, his face red.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Wilbur cocks his head. “Huh?” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tommy’s eyes widen. “Wait,” he points at Karl. “You did something! There’s no way you took down Dream that easily!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl sweats. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What are you on about?” Wilbur mumbles, sparing a glance at Phil. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That’s true,” Karl surrenders. “I knew what he was going to do so I could easily avoid his attack.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tommy laughs. It comes out as a husky bark. “Oh, yeah! You can see the future. Duh.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“W-well, not exactly.” Karl waves his hands dismissively. “I can’t control when I have one of those visions or who it’s about. It only happens when I touch people and never touched Dream.” Karl shifts on his feet, pressing the tip of his sneaker to the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So how’d you know what he was going to do?” Tommy asks with a slight cough. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The three heroes stare at the boys, all sharing expressions of confusion.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Um,” Karl starts with a stammer. “I, uh, lived through it once before. It didn’t go as well.” Karl fixes his gaze on the ground; normal, clear tears well in his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What happened? What do you mean you lived through it? If you did, how’d you get back? That doesn’t make any sense.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl lets out a subdued sob, squeezing his eyes shut as tears drop to the ground. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy,” Phil says tenderly, laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Stop pressuring him.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No,” Karl responds with a weak smile, wiping his eyes with his hands. “You deserve to know. It’s only fair after I’ve troubled you so much.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Karl, it’s okay.” Phil insists, stepping toward Karl.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No,” Karl reassures. “I want you to know.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil’s eyes soften and rest on Karl with a gentle smile. “Go ahead then, take your time.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Wilbur raises an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well, everything played out the same until Dream pulled a gun on me. The first time, Phil took the bullet for me. I don’t think he was breathing.” Karl stops to choke back a sob.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s alright, deep breaths, Karl.” Phil soothes, reaching his good arm around Karl’s shoulders and rubbing his back gently. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sorry,” Karl apologizes. “Um, anyway, I think Dream killed Techno and Wilbur the same way. You all jumped in front of either Tommy or me to keep us out of danger, and I felt so ashamed. You’re more helpful to society than I could ever hope to be; why do I get to stay alive and you don’t?” Karl looks up at Phil with a sullen grimace, his eyes shining with tears. “Even then, you weren’t afraid. You acted before you even had the chance to think, but I was frozen. I was too afraid to move, even though I knew if I didn’t do something, you would die.” Karl spits out the last sentence as if it was a foul beverage and lowers his head in shame. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I died? That doesn’t even sound like me.” Techno responds, unenthused. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Techno!” Phil scolds, shooting him a murderous look. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Techno averts his gaze with a sheepish smile. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You don’t have to believe me,” Karl murmurs. “but it’s the absolute truth. Dream is capable of killing all three of you.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I believe you. Your other predictions were right. There’s no way you could fake that.” Tommy concedes. “Though one thing doesn’t make sense. How did you stop Dream from killing those guys after he already killed them? Did you time travel or somethi—“ </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tommy cuts himself off. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I got emotional.” Karl continues. “I smashed this watch on the ground. I think that was the catalyst for what happened. I blinked, and suddenly I was back right before Phil arrived here. Everyone was frozen in time except for me. There wasn’t any wind or sound. There was this weird outline of where the past version of me was. When I stepped into it, time resumed, and I was able to use my knowledge of what had already happened to take Dream down.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The four others stood in shocked silence for a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m supposed to believe this?” Wilbur says with a wry chuckle.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl looks up at the hero with a watery grimace, and his eyes are dark. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay,” Wilbur surrenders. “I might believe you.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m telling you,” Tommy chimed in. “Big C is telling the truth. He predicted things he couldn’t have possibly known would happen.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s spelled with a K,” Karl says in a small voice. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh. Sorry, Big K.” Tommy says with a broad smile and a smack to Karl’s back. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl coughs. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Not so rough!” Phil scolds, grabbing Tommy’s wrist. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What are you, his dad?” Tommy teases, shoving his hands in his pockets. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil considers it for a moment. “I mean, I could be.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl looks at Phil bewilderedly. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“If you don’t have a place to stay, you can stay with Wilbur, Techno, and me.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Karl laughs. “Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yes, mate.” Phil echoes Karl’s laugh.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m sorry, but I can’t. I have, uh, friends I need to get back to.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil nods. “Suit yourself.” He turns to Tommy. “What about you, Tommy? Don’t you and your brothers need a place to stay?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fuck off, old man!” Tommy barks. “I still don’t like you. Don’t forget that.” He turns to Wilbur and Techno. “I like you two even less.” He says belligerently. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil can’t help it; he feels a little hurt. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’d never want to live with you anyway!” Wilbur bristles, folding his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, don’t flatter yourself,” Techno adds with a smirk. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Boys, that’s highly unprofessional.” Phil reprimands. “He’s a civilian, and you’re pro heroes. Act like it.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, an annoying civilian.” Wilbur shoots back childishly. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“True.” Techno agrees.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil sighs and then turns back to Tommy. “I don’t think you dislike them, though. You said a lot </span>
  <span class="s2">of nice things when you were feverish.” the hero grins, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tommy’s face reddens. “Oh yeah? I bet you could make up any shit you want since I don’t remember anything!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sure, mate. I could. You know it’s all true, though, which is all I need.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Like Hell, you stupid bitch!” Tommy yells, his face contorts in fury. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil grins at him. “What was it you called them? Wilby and... Techsie?” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Tommy seethes, the expression on his face betraying him as his ears turn a bright shade of vermillion. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sure, mate.” Phil continues to grin at Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Would you stop saying that, dickhead?” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“As you wish, prince Tommy.” Phil chuckles.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Was that a Princess Bride reference? God, you’re so old.” Tommy rolls his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, I like that movie too.” Techno interrupts. “Phil, how come you never told me you’d seen it?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil raises an eyebrow. “Because you’d start talking about it and never shut up.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, please! You love talking to me.” Techno puffs up his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That I do,” Phil replies. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m going home,” Tommy says with a scoff and begins to walk past the heroes.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Come on, don’t you need a place to live?” Phil presses once more. “Just come with us.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Why do you care so much?” Tommy responds </span>
  <span class="s2">coldly. “Shouldn’t you be treating me like you treat the countless other homeless people you encounter?” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well,” Phil starts.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Let me stop you right there,” Tommy says in a low voice. “I will never cooperate with you stuck-up heroes, whether you’ve saved my life or not.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tommy surrounds the “saved my life” bit with air quotes. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Okay, now Phil’s hurt. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Why? He usually has pretty thick skin. Why are Tommy’s words getting to him? </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy,” Phil tries.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You don’t know me, so don’t pretend to.” Tommy brushes past Phil, tilting his head slightly in the hero’s direction. “My place has been, and always will be, with Tubbo and Ranboo.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil stands in silence for a moment.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Thanks for the offer, though.” Tommy tacks on in the most insincere tone he can muster.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil opts not to follow the boy, as his job as a hero is done here, and that’s all he’s obligated to do. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">His job is done, so why does he feel so hollow as he watches this kid walk away? </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Shouldn’t he be proud for doing his job?</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Phil swallows the lump in his throat. He looks around the area and notices that Karl must have run off while he was talking to Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So, we go home now, right?” Wilbur says, his hands placed nonchalantly behind his head.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Guess so.” Phil mumbles.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He’ll put away the fourth plate at the dinner table, then.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>short chapter short chapter</p><p>also i added and changed things in some of the previous chapters, so maybe reread if you have the time. If anything needs clarification, please let me know and I will add some explanatory exposition.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. honey buns heal the pain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>trigger warning for mentions of starvation, extreme hunger, etc. </p><p>no actual dying though dw</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The issue with surviving a villain attack is that you’re still alive to feel hungry.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s not to say that Tommy wishes he was dead so that he wouldn’t go hungry anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Okay, <em>maybe</em> he has considered the idea.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Hey, could you not give him that look? Hunger makes you illogical; I guess you have the privilege not to understand. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sorry, that was mean. Tommy didn’t mean to be so passive-aggressive. He can’t help it, you know? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The people who call themselves heroes just letting him starve on the dirty floor of an abandoned garage; It makes him sick.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Or maybe that’s just nausea from lack of nutrition.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It’s anybody’s guess.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy digresses. He earnestly wished one of the heroes had at least offered him some food.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy holds his head in his hands, letting out a frustrated groan. He runs his hands through his hair, entangling them in his thick, dirt-laden locks. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so hungry,” Ranboo says with a resigned sigh, pulling his long legs to his chest, being careful not to disturb the sleeping Tubbo resting on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That makes two of us,” Tommy says with his signature soft exhale. Don’t lie. You know what I’m talking about. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“If we get Tubbo on board, we could legally start a church,” Ranboo mumbles in a desperate attempt to disperse the thick layer of misery that hung in the stale air.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy offers a pitiful version of his high-pitched bark of a laugh. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo stirs a little, wrapping his arms around Ranboo’s slender ones and groaning softly. He murmurs something incoherently.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo smiles at Tubbo fondly, adjusting his shoulders, so Tubbo was in a comfier position. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Jesus, get a room.” Tommy jabs, accompanied by a feeble attempt to prop himself up on his elbows. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Trust me; I would if I could.” Ranboo shoots back with practiced ease. “You think I’m living with you by choice?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You know, Ranboo, you’re kind of a dickhead.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Right back atchya.” Ranboo nods his head upwards in Tommy’s direction, challenging him without words. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out another telltale shaky sigh.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo celebrates his victory with a single husky chortle.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The boys are silent for a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Do you think I should have accepted Phil’s help?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Do you think Tubbo’s going to make it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy and Ranboo said in unison, drowning the other’s question out.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, you go first.” Ranboo apologizes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I said, do you think I should have accepted Phil’s help?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo tilts his head in the way he does when he’s considering whether or not to lie.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sighs once more. “I’ll take that as a yes.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A gap of silence opens between the two for a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I feel like it’s my fault.” Tommy surrenders. “I could have helped us, but I let my selfishness get in the way.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, you’re right not to trust them,” Ranboo responds in that emo tone he uses sometimes.“I don’t quite trust them either. I wish we had any other option.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods in wordless agreement.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I think they’re all we have left.” Tommy’s eyes flutter closed with resignation.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want to go crawling back, man. I want them to know that I’m okay on my own, and I don’t need them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m afraid we do need them, though. We’ve exhausted all our other options.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>know</em>, Ranboo! Thanks for reminding me, dickhead!” Tommy snaps. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo tilts his head to the side in understanding.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What do we do, Tommy?” Ranboo murmurs in that hopeless tone that Tommy has gotten to know very well in the past few days.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy is silent for a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What were you going to say before you said I could go first?” He asks finally. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” Ranboo spares a pitiful glance at the boy resting on his shoulder. “I was gonna ask if you think Tubbo will be okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out a distinctive bark of laughter. “Of course, big man. I know you’ve just gotten to know him recently, but Tubbo’s not that weak. He always bounces back.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo studies Tubbo for a moment. His hair is not as matted as Tommy’s, but his frame is smaller than usual, the shirt draped loosely over his shoulders showcasing his alarmingly prominent collarbones. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Please</em>,” Ranboo whispers. “You don’t have to go, but can I please at least ask the heroes for some food for Tubbo?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t need my permission,” Tommy waves his hand dismissively. “Do whatever you need to.” The syllables slur together as if the last of Tommy’s energy is slowly draining out of him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">So that’s how Ranboo ends up being narrator for a while.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Nice to meet you.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Given the circumstances, it’s not a great first impression, but Ranboo digresses. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo gently raps his knuckles against the glass door of the Top5 agency. 5up sits at the reception desk, paying dutiful attention to whatever is on the computer screen. The pro hero Philza rounds the corner and looks... happy to see Ranboo? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo’s certainly not over his qualms with Philza. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Awkward.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The hero opens the door, eagerly beckoning Ranboo inside. Ranboo ducks his head under the doorframe and stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve gotten so tall since the last time I saw you.” Philza smiles, and it confuses Ranboo immensely.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you talking to me like you’re my dad? Do you, like, not remember arresting me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza places a hand behind his head with a sheepish grin. “Consider it my attempt to make up for it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo presses his lips together. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s kind of weird, dude.” Ranboo says finally. Really, Ranboo? After all that thinking, that’s what you come up with?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Points for honesty, I suppose.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza’s face contorts in an expression that Ranboo can only describe as disappointed remorse.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, mate.” He says with a forced smile. “Wasn’t very professional of me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry, sir. That was rude of me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I like the honesty.” Philza says with a more genuine smile this time. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo begins to chuckle, but is interrupted but a sudden wave of fatigue washing over him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo isn’t sure if you are familiar with this concept, but when the titans fall, they fall hard. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo happens to be six and a half feet tall. Do you see where he’s going with it.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His knees buckle for a moment, but that’s all his legs need to lose their footing and come crashing to the floor.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo hardly falls for a second before he feels something catch him, and soft feathers against his cheek.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo steps back with a bashful chuckle. “Sorry, haven’t eaten in a while.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza looks at Ranboo with such deep concern that Ranboo almost feels afraid. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Come with me, now.” Philza orders, grabbing Ranboo’s wrist and tugging him toward the connecting hallway. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo rips his arm away with a slight yelp, and Philza turns, his eyes even more concerned. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Holy cow. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, I can’t. I just came here to—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“5up.” Philza says briskly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Ranboo, I know you want to eat. Go with Phil, he won’t hurt you, I promise.</em>” 5up responds without looking away from the computer screen.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No way. He was paying attention to their conversation all this time?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo suddenly feels overcome by the sensation of hunger, obediently letting Phil lead him down the hallway and into the break room. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As he and Philza sit down, Ranboo’s mind clears a bit.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Did you just mind control me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t,” Philza sipped from the mug of coffee previously resting on the table. “5up did.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s gross abusive of your hero license.” Ranboo mumbles, but he doesn’t stand up. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ranboo,” Philza says softly, sliding a package of Oreos across the table to Ranboo. “This <em>is hero work</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo stares at him in shock. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Did I just get baited?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Mhm.” Came the hero’s response.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo just stares at the package of Oreos. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You want something to drink, too?” Philza continues as if Ranboo’s world hadn’t just been turned upside-down. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you doing this?” Ranboo pipes up after a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry?” Philza raises an eyebrow as he fills a cup of water from the water cooler. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I thought you guys, like, arrested people and policed the streets like prison wardens or something.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">Philza thinks of Sam for a second, though he’s </span> <span class="s1">not quite sure why. </span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, you’re mistaken, mate.” Philza places the cup of water on the table, looking at Ranboo expectantly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Is this some sort of trick?” Ranboo says in his signature emo tone. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza just shakes his head, pushing the cookies closer to Ranboo.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo could cry. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He glances at the hero tearfully. “Really?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The hero just sits down across from Ranboo, nodding at the package of cookies. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza gives Ranboo a moment as the teen opens the package as if he were diffusing a bomb. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He gingerly takes a cookie.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t have to be so dramatic, mate. I didn’t poison ‘em.” the hero laughs, although it’s lighthearted. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo feels somewhat afraid to eat in front of the hero, but at this point he swallows the feeling and inhales three cookies in under a minute. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza looks more relieved than Ranboo does.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo heedlessly sucks down the cup of water, setting the empty cup back down on the table with a contented sigh.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza sports a pleased smile as he stands up and grabs a sandwich from the fridge. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He meets Ranboo’s eyes, raising his eyebrow in inquiry. Ranboo nods eagerly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza picks up a bigger mug off of the counter and fills it with water, placing it next to the empty plastic cup. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The hero lays back in his chair and closes his eyes as he allows the teen to eat. He can’t help but wonder how the other two boys are doing. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um, Philza, sir?” Ranboo interrupts the silence.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza peeks open an eye. “You can call me Phil.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">First name basis with a pro hero? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Holy cow.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um, okay.” Ranboo agrees. “But, uh, I really have to go.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I understand, mate. Your brothers doing alright?” Phil spins the now empty coffee mug by nudging the handle with his knuckle.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“My brothers?” Ranboo asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy and Tubbo.” Phil responds.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, did Tommy say we were brothers? I guess you could kind of say that.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil sits up, his eyes lit up. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Found family?” Phil asks with a fond smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wilbur and Techno are like that to me. They’re like my sons. I took them both in as sidekicks fresh out of high school.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo raises an eyebrow. “Wilbur and Techno?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ah,” Phil places a hand on the armrest of the chair. “Blade and Whistle, as you know them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, that’s cool.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Not a big fan of heroes, are you mate?” Phil asks, but his tone isn’t hostile. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo shakes his head silently. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I understand.” Phil is quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to accept, but you and your brothers are welcome at my home. Always.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo scoffs softly. “Like Tommy would ever agree to that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s face falls. “Right.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“To tell you the truth, we’re not doing good at all right now. The only reason I’m here is because Tommy’s too stubborn to ask for help from heroes, but Tubbo’s in really rough state.” Ranboo sighs, resting his head on the table. “I couldn’t stand to see him like that.” Ranboo’s voice is muffled from being squished against the table. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil just stares at the boy. He’s so sickly skinny. He couldn’t bare to see what Tubbo looks like. He presses his lips together tightly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil?” Ranboo asks, lifting his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Please, Ranboo. Try to convince Tommy for me. I’d do anything for you three to be safe.” The hero’s voice wavers slightly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I can try.” Ranboo replies. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I know I shouldn’t pry, especially when Tommy doesn’t want anything to do with me, but I can’t help it, you know? I care about him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo stares at Phil like he has two heads. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What?” The hero asks. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You care about him?” Ranboo asks in a small voice. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why does no one believe me when I say that?” Phil laughs lightly. “Yes, I care about him. I care about all of you. It’s my job.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Your job?” Ranboo breathes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t seriously think that all heroes do is arrest people, did you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo studies his shoes. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Jesus christ, mate.” Phil chuckles. “The overall job description is to help people. That includes taking dangerous criminals off the streets, sure, but more than that, it’s helping homeless people get back on their feet, helping single mothers care for their children, offering rides to people to need it, the list goes on.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo opens his mouth, but Phil stops him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Before you say it, I know I fucked up when I arrested you and Tubbo. You weren’t dangerous criminals and I should have realized that. I had no idea what you were going through.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo closes his mouth, taking in Phil’s words. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“I know this comes from a place of privilege, and I know that doesn’t excuse anything, but I’m truly sorry. Tommy taught me things I needed someone else’s help to see. I’m </span> <span class="s1">dying to make it up to him, but I know involving myself any more will only make him angrier.”</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo nods. “I made some assumptions about you, too. Just like you, I didn’t know the full story. I forgive you. I’m sure Tubbo would too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil relaxes dramatically.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy is a tough nut to crack, though. I have no idea what he’d think of me forgiving you and accepting your help.” Ranboo sighs, and Phil sees a little of Tommy in him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I went and got attached to the kid.” Phil says with a resigned chuckle. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo echoes Phil’s chuckle. “Me, too. For how abrasive he is, I still don’t know what I’d do without him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, Ranboo, I have an idea.” Phil says suddenly, jolting up from his seat. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What is it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“If you and Tubbo come stay with me, Tommy will surely follow, right?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo shrugs. “I am unsure of how far he’s willing to take his stubbornness, but it’s a solid plan.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, and Ranboo, before you leave, please give these to Tubbo.” Phil hands a plastic shopping bag to Ranboo.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo peers into the bag curiously. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Holy honey buns. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">There’s at least thirty honey buns in here. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo stares at Phil with a shocked smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You really do care.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ahaha finally i can write Ranboo </p><p>I have never tried to copy his mannerisms before so I hope I did okay</p><p>the narration for the upcoming chapters is gonna pretty silly. Hope you’re okay with that :j</p><p>ALSO ALSO! Let me know what other AUs would work with my writing style please i beg i want to hear ur ideas. yes, you reading this. give me the AUs I wish to consume</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. father of five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ranboo makes an executive decision that turns out to be the best decision he’s ever made.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tubbo,” Ranboo nudges Tubbo gently.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Mhmnfuck off...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I have honey buns.” Ranboo coaxes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo peeks an eye open. “Honey buns?” He says blearily.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Mhm.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">With great effort, Tubbo sits up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo hands a honey bun to Tubbo, taking a bite out of his pastry.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ranboo, I could kiss you.” Tubbo slurs with half-lidded eyes as he inhales the pastry.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No need,” Ranboo holds his hands up with a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t the one who got them, anyways.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo raises an eyebrow. “Was Tommy, then?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo shakes his head. “Phil gave them to me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You fraternized with the enemy?” Tommy shouts from the other side of the garage, looking in rougher shape than when Ranboo left.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I have so many questions,” Ranboo averts his eyes to meet Tubbo’s. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo shrugs and grabs another honey bun out of the bag. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Throw ‘em at me, big man,” Tommy says with an uncharacteristically cooperative tone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“The most pressing issue,” Ranboo points at Tommy’s ripped shirt and the mud smudges on his face. “Is how scuffed you look right now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve given up!” Tommy says with a grin, throwing his hands in the air and falling backward into the wall awkwardly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo swallows the lump in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Tubbo and Ranboo say in unison. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m gonna sit here and spend the rest of my days sleeping,” Tommy says in a tone that Ranboo can’t quite decipher. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This isn't good. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t do that!” Ranboo responds with alarm, the hairs on his arms standing up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why not?” Tommy slurs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You will die,” Ranboo says forcefully as if Tommy isn’t aware.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, that’s the point, dickhead.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Absolutely not.” Ranboo persists.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo stands. “Tommy, no.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, yes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What’s the point in that? Don’t you want to grow up and make a name for yourself?” Ranboo presses further, his tone growing impatient. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Nah,” Tommy lays against the wall lazily, slumped in an unnatural position. “I’m okay. I don’t think the world needs me, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, I don’t. Stop sitting like that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t make me.” Tommy sticks his tongue out childishly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo strides over to Tommy briskly, crossing the garage in under two seconds. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, I’m making an executive decision,” Ranboo says exasperatedly, yet his eyes are resolute and determined. “Up we go.” Ranboo hoists Tommy up by his armpits and gently fucking tosses Tommy onto his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out a very comical “oof” sound, and Tubbo snickers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Put me down this instant, you tall prick.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Make me,” Ranboo says snidely, and he reaches down to pull the garage door upward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tubbo, come with me.” Ranboo orders, stepping into the sun.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Mmnso warm...” Tommy murmurs, wrapping his arms around Ranboo’s neck for support. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo rolls his eyes, but he cracks a small smile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy is so stupid. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo seems happy to follow Ranboo as long as he has his honey buns, so he trails behind the two younger boys as he enjoys his breakfast. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Excuse me, 5up?” Ranboo calls from in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo looked up and noticed that they walked to that agency or whatever. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What? He doesn’t know the name. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo rests his head against the wall of the building as he listens to Ranboo’s indistinct conversation.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo exits the agency holding a small slip of paper. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Is Tommy... asleep?” Tubbo points a finger at the kid on Ranboo’s back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Definitely. He’s snoring in my ear.” Ranboo doesn’t seem that mad about it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo snorts. “L.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo shoots him a glare, handing Tubbo the slip of paper. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo studies it. “An address?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yep. We’re going to Phil’s house.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo snorts even harder. “Tommy’s going to absolutely maim you, Ranboo.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“He’s quirkless; I can handle him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I was referring to the verbal abuse you will undoubtedly receive,” Tubbo replies, taking a bite out of his fifth honey bun. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo rolls his eyes for what seems like the millionth time and turns around. “Just tell me the number of the address when we get to the street, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo shrugs, following Ranboo down the sidewalk once more.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How’d you get a pro hero’s address anyway?” Tubbo asks after a while of walking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I talked to Phil yesterday. He said we could come to his house any time. Apparently, 5up was eavesdropping, so he just gave me the address and said it was Phil’s fault if anything happened to his house.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Mr. Cup is an odd one.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo chuckles. “He’s one of the most secretive heroes. I didn’t think he’d give it to me so easily like that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“To be fair, it’s not his information that he’s giving up,” Tubbo says matter-of-factly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo nods in agreement. “Can’t argue with that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Techno pressed a hand to his forehead, muttering under his breath. He will not get attached to some random homeless kid. He is not attached to this kid. He is not. No sir.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">So much for that, Techno thinks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Hullo dear readers, long time no see. Techno hasn’t narrated since chapter four.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s got to say; it’s not good to be back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Not at a time like this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why are you looking at Techno like that?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh, right. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You all are blissfully unaware of the turmoil that Techno’s household was currently experiencing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno has some time. Allow him to fill you in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Most prominently, Phil’s a mess. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t show it much outwardly, but Techno has known Phil for a long time, so he notices every little thing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s mindless staring at the three empty chairs while they’re having dinner, in addition to the sounds of the coffee maker at three in the morning, and incoherent mutters to himself may not seem like much on the surface. Still, when you consolidate them, it starts to paint a concerning picture. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur and Techno were acutely and agonizingly aware of this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That leads to the next issue. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">All of their approval ratings have gone down due to the various run-ins they’ve had with Dream. The people think they didn’t do their job right; saving the kid was the number one priority, and, admittedly, they were the worst at handling Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">On top of everything, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back for Phil. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno isn’t ever genuinely sure what that man’s thinking, but he knows it isn’t positive. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil shouldn’t blame himself, though; Don’t you agree?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy reminds Techno of himself in a way, his speed and critical thinking skills are nothing to sneeze at, and he’s surprisingly good at hand-to-hand combat despite never going to a hero school. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No matter how much Tommy tries to conceal it, Techno can see the fiery ambition in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy still admires the people he aspires to be like, the people in question being heroes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno knows the kid is just taking out his anger about the world on the heroes, and he doesn’t hate them, but it wasn’t Techno’s place to step in or say anything. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s feelings are valid. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That being said, however; </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Why did it have to be Phil? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno can take the heat. He knows his heart lies in the right place. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur understands the nuance of the situation and gives Tommy breathing room as requested. There’s no way Wilbur likes that kid, so it’s no biggie.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil, on the other hand, is soft-hearted as all hell. Especially when it comes to kids, he’s basically taken Wilbur and Techno in as his sons, and he cares deeply about these kids he’s barely met. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He cares so deeply that it’s tearing him apart.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Neither Wilbur nor Techno know how to comfort him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur tried once. Please understand the emphasis on <em>tried</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Who cares about that kid? He was an asshole to you,” was not the correct answer. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno attempted to convince Phil to let it go; Tommy knows how to handle himself, not everyone has to like you for you to be a good hero, the whole nine yards. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno almost convinced Phil to move on.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Then, Ranboo showed up at the agency. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Starving!” Phil would shout. “They’re fucking starving, and I’m supposed to stand back and watch?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Neither Techno nor Wilbur had a good answer to that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy is stubborn. Think “<em>immovable object</em>” stubborn. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s also an absolute idiot. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He would probably assure himself he can fend for himself and then waste away to nothing rather than accept help from a hero.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Can Techno be honest with you? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno doesn’t have a logical solution for this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They could: </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A) Live, as usual, waiting for the kids to come to the agency on their own if they need it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">B) Track down where they’re hiding and force them into custody, where at least the boys would be safe. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">C) Track down where they’re hiding and attempt to bargain with the most stubborn kid Techno’s ever met. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">D) Hope that the boys find a way to sustain themselves in the next few days. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In terms of getting involved, Techno doesn’t see a good way to go about it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They don’t have any authority to step in off of personal feelings alone; doing so might get their licenses suspended. They can’t just kidnap some random kids. The only way Techno can reasonably promise their safety is by arresting them, and even then, the boys have Tommy Houdini on their side and a kid who can teleport. Also, Phil definitely would not let Techno arrest them. Phil wants to mend his relationship with Tommy just as much as he wants Tommy to be safe. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Arresting them would guarantee that Tommy would never look in Phil’s direction again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">With the looming obligation of Phil’s feelings, the heroes didn’t have many options. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno might have to resort to taking them in by force and accept his fate of being the catalyst for Phil’s mental breakdown. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s the only way Techno can see this working.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno sets down the pen he was holding and stands up from his desk. He adjusts his glasses and spares a glance at the clock.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was almost noon, so Wilbur and Phil were probably awake by now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno was exhausted, having pulled an all-nighter for the third time this week. He just wanted some coffee.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He wandered into the kitchen, mumbling the words of a meme to himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He spots the empty coffee pot — and lack of coffee beans — and lets out a deep sigh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil, did you drink all the c—“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno’s heart sinks as he sees Phil, asleep at the table again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Coffee... again?” Techno finishes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno decides not to bother the poor guy and instead opens the fridge and roots around before he finally settles on a cup of yogurt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Wilbur.” He mutters as he detects his twin’s footsteps. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Morning, Techno.” Wilbur calls back, but he says Techno’s name in such a way that it sounds like “Tet-no.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno always found that amusing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The twins find themselves staring at Phil in silence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They glance at each other inquisitively. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur breaks the silence with a sigh. “Again?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno nods.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What are we supposed to do about this?” Wilbur asks, his fingers wrapped around the back of a chair for support. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno leans against the counter, elbows pressed against the chilly marble countertop.He tilts his head back. “Dunno.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We should talk to him.” Wilbur’s statement wobbles as if the speaker himself is unsure.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno sighs, lowering his head to look at Wilbur. Pink strands of hair obstruct his vision, and he tucks the unruly locks behind his ear with a grunt. “Wilbur, you know I’m no good at that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I’m even worse!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Two negatives don't make a positive.” Techno deadpans. “Well, except when you multiply them,” he tacks on hastily.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur responds with a low chuckle. “You didn’t have to say that last bit; I wouldn’t have called you out.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Are you asking me to spew misinformation like some kind of fool?” Techno leans forward, challenging his twin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m saying,” Wilbur accepts the challenge, pushing his glasses up. “You don’t have to clarify a metaphor, English major.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno sputters, “Even if it’s a metaphor, some impressionable reader might take it the wrong way. Don’t blame me for my dedication to clarity.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur tilts his head inquisitively. “Readers? We’re having a verbal conversation, Techno.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno looks at you. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s what you think.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck are you on about, Technoblade?” Wilbur’s words float on lighthearted laughter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A knock at the door interrupts the fourth-wall break. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno turns to the door, shrugging. “Not it.” He says, backing away from the door with his hands raised. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Coward,” Wilbur spits, glaring at his twin as he opens the door. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, sorry to bother you at lunchtime, Mr. Whistle, sir.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur can’t help but crack a small smile. This kid has split-dyed black and white hair. He peered down at Wilbur through sunglasses with one green lens and one red lens as he towered above the doorway. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Not to mention the <em>Tommy</em> that he’s just casually thrown over his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um, Ranboo, was it?” Wilbur asks, stepping out of the doorway. “Please, come in. Phil will be so happy to see you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo winces and sneaks a glance at the passed-out gremlin on his shoulder at the mention of Phil’s name. He takes a deep breath, assuring himself he’s making a good decision. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo awkwardly ducks into the foyer of the house, instinctively taking off his shoes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, you’re so polite for a homeless kid,” Wilbur affirms, impressed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo shifts on his unusually long legs. “Thank you, I think?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo steps into the house and starts to walk in before he spots Ranboo’s shoes and promptly chokes on the honey bun in his mouth before briskly taking his beat-up sneakers off as well. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He grins sheepishly at Wilbur, straightening his posture. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur shakes his head with a chuckle and diverts his attention to Ranboo. Wilbur gestures to the stairs. “You should get Tommy in a bed. There are many bedrooms up there; Techno, Phil, and I live on the ground floor, so don’t worry about impeding on our privacy or anything. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo cocks his head to the side, eyeing the hero with a puzzled expression. “Are you serious?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Can’t I just set him on a couch or something? I’d hate to intrude—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ranboo, you are too polite for your own good. Go take Tommy upstairs, or I’ll do it for you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“O-okay, sir. Sorry, sir.” Ranboo adjusts his hold on Tommy and climbs up the staircase. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur beckons Tubbo into the kitchen, and the bare-footed boy awkwardly shuffles into the room, avoiding eye contact with either hero.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno pushes himself off of the counter, using his elbows as leverage. He takes an uneasy step toward Wilbur. “How is the kid here? Are the other ones here, too?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur can’t help it; he grins. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Pog,” is all Techno has to say on the matter. “They stayin’?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur looks at Tubbo hesitantly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy will kill me,” he says quickly, promptly stuffing another honey bun in his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How did you get him here in the first place?” Techno asks with a quiet chortle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo says something incoherently through the pastry in his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“He said Tommy passed out.” Ranboo translates, gingerly crossing the foyer to stand next to Tubbo in the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How the fuck did you know what he said?” Wilbur murmurs incredulously as Techno snorts. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I dunno,” Ranboo shrugs. “I just can.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno meets Wilbur’s gaze. “I like him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Rude,” Tubbo says as he opens the packaging of another pastry. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit, kid, how many of those are you going to eat?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Haven’t eaten since last week.” Tubbo deadpans, still refusing to meet Wilbur’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, god.” Techno recoils, instinctively stepping toward the boys. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“‘m good now. I have honey buns.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um,” Techno starts hesitantly. “What about Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“He was spouting nonsense and exhibiting delirium, so I said screw this and carried him here. He fell asleep on the way here.” Ranboo says as if it’s just an average Tuesday. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Jesus Christ,” Wilbur replies. “Well, I’m glad you brought him here. It was a good decision, Ranboo. I’m proud of you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo could cry. His long legs shook beneath him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re... what?” Ranboo says with a weak voice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m proud,” Wilbur repeats. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo tears up. “No, stop saying that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A snort sounds from the dinner table, and Wilbur stiffens, frantically glancing at Techno.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno stands awkwardly at the counter.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil lifts his head with a yawn. “What time is it?” His voice is hoarse, heavy with sleep. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno’s knees lock. “Noon somethin’.” He mumbles, forgetting how to sound casual. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Christ, mate.” Phil lets his head fall back into his arms. “You can wake me, you know. Now I’m late to patrol.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, no, you don’t have to. I, Uh, was about to go cover you.” Techno says hastily, glancing at Wilbur as if to ask, “What the hell do we do?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil stands, pushing his chair back. “Thank you, but I need to get my mind off of things... </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hi, Phil! Good morning?” Wilbur grins abashedly, his hands placed on Tubbo and Ranboo’s shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil blinks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Then he blinks again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Am I fucken dreaming?” Phil places a hand over his eyes with a laugh. “This is fucken nutty. There’s no way.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um.” Ranboo takes a step forward. “No, I’m very much here. You don’t mind us being here, do you? ‘Cause I can leave, if you want—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, no, mate, of course not!” Phil says with a shocked smile. “I’m so glad you’re here. Do you need something to eat? Drink? Did Tubbo like the honey buns? Where’s Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil, calm down, holy shit,” Wilbur murmurs with a restrained chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, sorry. I was just so worried about you guys.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Is he crying?” Ranboo glances fearfully at Wilbur. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“He’s just a dad. Let him be.” Wilbur responds, shaking his head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, okay,” Ranboo says stiffly. “Um, Tommy was kinda in, like, super bad shape. I may have taken him here against his will.” Ranboo’s words jumble together as he attempts to speak as quickly as possible.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s smile drops. “Where is he? Can I see him? How bad is he? Is he injured?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil, please.” Wilbur urges, his face red. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I disagree,” Phil counters. “I’d like to think I’m just doing my job.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, yeah, so you’ve been obsessing over these kids for weeks because it’s your job.” Techno pipes up from behind Phil.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil huffs.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo feels a little guilty; he had no idea Phil was so worked up over him and his friends’ street-urchin selves. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy’s upstairs,” Ranboo breaks the thick silence uneasily. “I set him down in the bedroom closest to the stairs.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil doesn’t even respond to Ranboo as he races up the stairs in the blink of an eye. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I am so sorry you had to see that,” Wilbur says, pressing his hand to his forehead with embarrassment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So, he was really worried about us, huh?” Ranboo thinks out loud. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Nah, I don’t see it. You really think so?” Techno jabs with a chuckle, easing the thick tension. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, Ranboo. He’s a fucking helicopter parent to random kids on the street. Techno and I are basically his sons at this point.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno nods in agreement. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo sighs. “I would have tried to convince Tommy to come sooner if I had known.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo’s using the emo voice again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s because of how much Phil cared for you guys that he didn’t get involved.” Wilbur reasons, taking a seat at the table. “He didn’t want to upset Tommy any further or intrude on your lives uninvited.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo offers a dry laugh. “I honestly didn’t think he cared at all.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur visibly recoils. “What? How?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Trust issues, I guess,” Ranboo responds. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god,” Techno says with a snort. “You all are so hopeless.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Can’t argue with that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hi my twitter is @vibesoda if u ever want to chat or see my art/animations !!</p>
<p>also recommend me aus or tropes to write i wish to write more multi-chapter fics because i have no life</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. best day in 33 years</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy has a nightmare, and someone he supposedly hates comforts him. Showing your true feelings there, are you Tommy?</p>
<p>Short fluff chapter lol enjoy</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The ticking of a clock rings distinctly in Tommy’s ears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He opens his eyes, but only darkness greets him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy spins around in an attempt to find the source of the monotonous nuisance, but instead, a lone figure steps into a patch of what could only be moonlight. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Tommy</em>,” Dream calls sweetly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy listens as his heartbeats overtake the ticking, no longer in time with the clock.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy opens his mouth to speak, but his vocal cords refuse to cooperate. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have something — or someone — that might interest you,” Dream tilts his head. The unfeeling smile on his mask becomes shadowed by his hood. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, help, please,” A smaller figure steps into view. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can’t think.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything feels so far away. He can’t concentrate. Dream and Tubbo seem to flicker in and out of sight. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What is happening?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sweat drenched Tommy’s forehead as his face heats up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His feet feel shackled to the ground, his arms numb, and the only thing Tommy can hear is the sound of his racing heartbeat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have to come with me, Tommy.” Dream’s voice reverberates across space. He sounds farther away, but neither of them had moved. “I’ll kill Tubbo.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No!” Tommy manages to shout, but his voice gets lost in the void that encompasses him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nothing makes sense. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How did Dream get Tubbo?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When was the last time Tommy even saw Tubbo? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What’s happening here?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A faint echo of a magazine clicking into place makes its way to Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy wills his body to move, but it won’t budge. It’s not his own anymore.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy notices he’s sweating buckets; every inch of his skin was slick with sweat, his clothes clung to his skin as the moisture weighed them down. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The harsh heartbeats in Tommy’s head come to a crescendo, sending sparks of hot agony through his skull. His eardrums might burst at any second.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A hot flash crashes into Tommy, sending a foggy wave of fatigue through his body. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please,” Tommy whispers breathlessly. “Please don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy jolts up from a supine position, his body still damp with sweat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s still dark. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy <em>still</em> can’t see.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His mind feels less foggy this time, though.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Was that a dream? More importantly, is Tommy no longer dreaming?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Aw, fuck.” Tommy whispers to himself, his body shuddering despite Tommy feeling like he’s on fire. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulls his knees to his chest, taking in gasping breaths that never seem to supply enough oxygen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His throat is dry and withered, as if he had swallowed hot sand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His hands are clammy, Tommy is unable to feel his fingers for long enough to hold anything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The only thing Tommy can hear is his raucous, laborious breathing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A lamp flickers to life, burning Tommy’s retinas.A waterfall of tears stream down his cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, hey, what's wrong, Tommy? Is everything alright?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At the sound of a voice, ice-cold terror rockets through Tommy’s veins. He lets out a gasping cry, flinching further away from the light. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, it’s me, Tommy. It’s Phil. I’m not going to hurt you, you know that, right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Every muscle in Tommy’s body relaxes at once, glorious relief replaces his terror in an instant.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels something wrap around him, and then a soft feather tickles his skin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The tension in Tommy’s body drains out of him, and he relaxes into Phil’s hold. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Christ, you’re burning up, mate.” the hero’s voice filters through Tommy’s fuzzy mind.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy just rests his head against Phil, trying to still his trembling limbs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A hand places itself in Tommy’s hair, gently tousling it. “It’s okay, you’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Promise?” Tommy whispers almost imperceptibly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I promise, kid.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <em>
      <span class="s2">I’ll stand between you and danger. I’ll protect you no matter what it takes.</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you,” Tommy murmurs with a slight wheeze. “Thank you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s the least I can do, mate.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Tommy feels something jostle him. “You alive over there?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy mumbles something sleepily and curls deeper into Phil’s wing, grabbing fistfuls of feathers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright.” The hero offers a soft chuckle, laced with adoration. “I just wanted to know if you’re hungry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lifts his head, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He stares up the the hero. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that a yes?” Phil asks with a gentle smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods as enthusiastically as he can.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I made some soup for you, you want that?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Another nod.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, I’ll get it for you, but you’ll need to let go of my wing for a second.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy whines as Phil lifts his wing away, being left with cold pillows. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be back, I promise.” Phil’s words overflow with sincerity, as if the universe could be exploding around him and he’d still be looking at Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil returns, accompanied by a delectable aroma. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s stomach grumbles in response. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here you go, mate. Eat it before it gets cold.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy holds the bowl with shaky hands. A small towel was wrapped around the bowl to keep it from burning Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy holds the bowl to his lips and wolfs the soup down in seconds. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The warmth of the soup made Tommy feel even safer, he laid back against his pillow with half-lidded eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit, mate. It wasn’t going anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Was hungry,” Tommy murmurs in response, letting his eyes flutter closed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You want to go back to bed?” Phil asks, Tommy didn’t know a voice that soft could exist. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy offers a minute nod in response.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You want me to stay with you?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods again, pulling the covers up to his chin with a small sigh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, I’ll be right here, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” Tommy mumbles, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Love you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you, too, kid.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">-</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy said he loved Phil. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy said he loved Phil. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Him</em>. Phil. Tommy loves <em>him.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Holy shit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though he’s a grown man, Phil’s not afraid to admit that he wants to squeal so badly right now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Honestly, Phil could not be happier right now. This is all he wanted for the past month and a half or so. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everyone he cares about, all under the same roof, safe and sound. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil reaches up and quietly turns the lamp off with a soft click.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sits against the wall of the room, his wings wrapped around him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One of the many good things about having wings is that you can sleep anywhere. Phil’s got a built-in pillow and blanket.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He rests his head against the familiar soft feathers, and smiles at the ceiling.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Today is the best day of his entire fucking life. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No doubt about it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>is this what u all have been waiting for? is this what you desire? are you perhaps like little ducklings waiting for me to throw crumbs into your pond? </p>
<p>here are ur crumbs</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. tommyinnit’s no good, very bad day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy jumps out a window to escape certain high levels of embarrassment.</p><p>What has he done?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy feels like he’s wading through thick fog.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">With a reluctant sigh, he opens his eyes and sits up.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He finally feels like he can think straight. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Wait.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">What the fuck is this. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Why is that fucking prick with the wings here? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Where is here?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy stares at the wall for a moment, his brows furrowed in thought.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">His face turns a striking shade of scarlet, and Tommy drops his head into his hands with a sharp inhale. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2"><em>Oh, god</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He said he loved that dickhead of a hero.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Why the fuck did he say that?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Please, any otherworldly being, strike him dead immediately.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The TommyInnit community will never financially recover from this. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy exhales the breath he was holding, releasing a shaky sigh. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He has to get the fuck out of here. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2"><em>Now</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">There is absolutely no way he can face Philza after saying that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">I mean, it’s not like he meant it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">What’s with that look? Tommy did not mean it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">His feelings are quite the opposite actually. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He doesn’t know how he got here in the first place, but he’d bet Tubbo on the fact that Philza was involved. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">As Tommy has stated many times before, he wants nothing to do with any hero, especially not those three bastards. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">So stop expecting him to have a change of heart. Got it? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Let it go.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Maybe in another fuckin’ life. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy spots his favorite — and only — pair of sneakers in the corner and slips them on. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He spares a glance back at the hero sleeping on the floor.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The dick is snoring.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">His wings are not cool. Don’t even pretend that they are. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Now, how to get out of here?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy slowly opens the door, peeking out into the hallway.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He darts down the hall, and into the bathroom. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The window is on the second floor, but it’ll have to do. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy climbs onto the toilet and flips the window lock outward. With great effort — man, he’s fatigued — he pushes the window up, creating a space just big enough to crawl through. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy winces, bracing himself for falling out a fucking window. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It’s a necessary sacrifice, dear reader. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Oh, shut up already, will you? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy is not going to stay here. End of story.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">There is <em>nothing</em> that will convince him otherwise. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Then, right on cue, his stomach growls really fucking loud. Good for nothing sack of acid.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Shit,” he mumbles, scrambling out the window and perching on the tiny windowsill. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">There are some bushes below him, and he can’t tell if they’re the prickly kind or not. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Well, c'est la vie.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He kicks off of the windowsill, feeling his stomach plummet to the ground faster than his body does. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He just barely missed the bushes — they were prickly, fucking holly plants, Halloween is the superior holiday anyway — and tumbled onto the ground unceremoniously. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Not that he was running out of dirt in his hair or anything. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He stands up on shaky legs; his stomach growls once more and Tommy scowls. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’m <em>working</em> on it,” he snaps, brushing off his clothes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He takes an overconfident step forward.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Totally nailed it. Eat shit, heroes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He strolls down the street leisurely, ignoring the growing pain in his stomach.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Operation <em>find a place to steal from</em> is a go. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">This is a residential area, so Tommy has to get to a public street to have any luck.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Unfortunately, that means getting looks from strangers that are dirtier than his clothes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">Again, c'est la vie</span> <span class="s3">.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy feels overwhelmingly sluggish, but he brushes it off as grogginess from sleep. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He just needs to find something to eat and everything will be all good. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Poggers, if you will.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Unfortunately, every step makes his feet heavier and heavier.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy stumbles onto a main road and leans against a wall to catch his breath. He takes a bleary glance at the customers chatting outside of a cafe, and he doesn’t register the random guy sprinting at him until his mouth is covered with a rough hand, and he’s being dragged harshly into an empty parking lot.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy bites the dude’s hand and manages to squirm away as the guy recoils with pain and disgust.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Dude, what the hell?” He says, shaking his hand as if it’s on fire.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, that’s my line, dickhead.” Tommy mumbles, staggering backward to get a look at the guy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’s got jet-black hair that looks like it’s through a wind tunnel, only kept at bay by a white headband tied around his forehead. He’s wearing a black turtleneck with a stupid graphic t-shirt that sports some mspaint-esque drawing of a flame. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy, I’m just gonna need you to come with me. You’ve already caused enough trouble for Dream and George.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Sapnap.” Tommy growls with frustration. “I’m kinda in the middle of something, dude.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Sapnap raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I kind of haven’t eaten in like, a week.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, for real bro? I’ve got some, like, goldfish crackers if you want.” The villain — can you even call him that? — roots through the bag slung over his shoulder and pulls out a bag of goldfish crackers.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy sighs contemptuously. “I’m not gonna eat your poisoned food, prick.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No, no, I haven’t opened ‘em. See?” Sapnap tosses the bag to Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy examines it as his mouth waters in anticipation.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“But, uh, you can only eat them if you promise to come with me.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Sure, Sapnap.” Tommy rolls his eyes, taking a seat on the pavement and beginning to shovel goldfish into his mouth. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Sapnap sits down as well. “So, uh, what have you been doing? Dream said you have some kinda mutant quirk. What’s it like?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Are you serious?” Tommy spoke through a mouthful of crackers.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, I mean, I’m curious.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">There’s no way this guy is pulling one over on Tommy. He seems too... how does one put this lightly? Dense. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I keep trying to tell you pricks that I don’t have a quirk.” Tommy jabs a finger at Sapnap, who raises an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Really? But Dream was so sure. He said you were like, the same as Karl. I actually kinda liked that guy. I wonder how he’s doing.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t give a shit what Dream said. He’s fucking insane. I wouldn’t listen to a word he says.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Really? I think he’s pretty cool.” Sapnap responds, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy just scoffs at this. He finishes the crackers and stuffs the empty bag in his pocket. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Hey, he may be a criminal, but he has decency. He’s not gonna casually litter like that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Okay, so per our agreement, you have to come with me now.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t recall any agreement,” Tommy shoots back snidely, getting to his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Come on, man. I don’t want to have to fight you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy waves a hand at the villain dismissively. “Then don’t. I’m out of here.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Please?” Sapnap tries. “I don’t want to burn you, that’s so unnecessary.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Then don’t.” Tommy repeats, walking away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy watches unamused as flames surround him and heat his skin, then disperse. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You asshole!” Sapnap shouts. “You do have a quirk!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy turns, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, didn’t you hear me when I said I don’t have one? I have no strategical reason to lie about that when Dream already knows everything about me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“He doesn’t know your exact quirk, dumbass. That’s why he’s so interested in you. Seriously, I thought you were supposed to be smart.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">More flames spiral in Tommy’s direction, only to divert around Tommy and spill out to the side of him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Once again, Tommy is unscathed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“That’s not going to work, no matter how many times you try it.” Tommy mumbles, feeling surprisingly woozy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’s not sure why he’s surprised, he has only eaten some goldfish and soup in the past week. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, you don’t look so good.” The villain says, stepping toward Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Were there always two of you?” Tommy slurs, shifting on his feet uneasily. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Sapnap approaches Tommy and helps him to the ground. “Here, sit down dude.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Sapnap!” A strange voice interrupts whatever the fuck was happening there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Punz.” The villain spits, his tone strikingly more intense now.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“What’re you doing to this kid?” The guy called Punz asks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Well, I was trying to kidnap him but he’s not feeling very well and I wanted to take care of that first.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Someone appears in Tommy’s peripheral vision. “Hey, man. You okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy turns his head. “Purpled?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy!” Purpled exclaims, grinning. “It’s been so long man, how’ve you been?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Broke out of foster care. Now I live in a garage.” Tommy deadpans, rubbing his aching temples with his hands.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Oh.” Purpled responds simply. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“‘s not that bad. I live with Tubbo and we met this new guy recently called Ranboo.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Wait.” Tommy lifts his head. “Are you a pro?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz stares at Tommy for a moment. “...No. Me and Purpled are vigilantes.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy sighs with relief. “Oh, thank god. I cannot afford to run into any pros.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz chuckles. “What kind of crimes did you commit, kid?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy shakes his head. “You misunderstand. I had a fever or something and I accidentally told Philza I loved him. Which I don’t. I hate his guts, actually.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz raises an eyebrow. “Really? Interesting. Wonder how you got to that point.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Long story.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I thought so.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, did you guys forget about me? I’m literally right here.” Sapnap butts in quite rudely. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, right.” Punz turns back to Sapnap.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Long time no see, big brother.” Sapnap grins. “I have mom’s quirk, you have dad’s quirk. Care to see which one is stronger?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz shrugs. “I guess.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy was about to ask what Punz’s quirk was, but his question was answered as Punz becomes a blur of speed, appearing behind Sapnap in the blink of an eye and kicking him to the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He places a steel-soled boot on his brother’s back, wiping a single bead of sweat off his forehead.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’ve sent an anonymous tip to the police. Have fun behind bars, little brother.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">This Punz guy is kind of cool.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey! This isn’t over!” Sapnap squirms under Punz’s foot, but to no avail. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Then, before Tommy could say something snarky, a tornado of flames comes rocketing in his direction. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Wait, no. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Not his direction, <em>Purpled’s</em> direction. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Without thinking, Tommy smacks his arm into Purpled, dispersing the flames in the nick of time. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy lets out a heavy exhale. “Holy shit what the fuck.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Adrenaline rushes through Tommy’s veins, his heart beats in his ears.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, thanks for the save.” Purpled’s voice sounds distant. “You have a really cool quirk.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t have a—“ Tommy cuts himself off as he faintly registers his head colliding with the concrete.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">Oh, </span> <em> <span class="s4">fuck</span> </em> <span class="s2"> this. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Purple, give me your jacket.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Why do we have to use mine?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“‘Cause my jacket’s way cooler. Now hurry.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Purpled sighed with resigned compliance and pulled his jacket over his head, handing it to Punz. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz uses one part of the jacket to prop Tommy’s head up so it wasn’t on the pavement, and he held the other part to the poor kid’s head.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“That’s a lot of blood,” Purpled whispered nervously. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Head wounds bleed a lot. It’s not that deep, he’ll be just fine.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“It’s a bummer we had to let Sapnap go in order to make sure Tommy’s safe.” Purpled murmured. “Maybe they would give me a hero license if I brought in a famous villain.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz chuckled, tousling Purpled’s hair. “In a perfect world, Purple; in a perfect world.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz recognized that voice. It was the number two hero, Philza. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Oh, god. This is bad for everyone involved. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz has never narrated before, so please excuse him if he gets anything wrong. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz and Purpled are vigilantes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Which basically means they’re doing hero work illegally. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy has apparently said something embarrassing to this pro hero. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Worst case scenario: Tommy dies from embarrassment; Punz and Purpled get arrested. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz would rather not have to witness the awkward conversation that will undoubtedly occur, much less be arrested. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Unfortunately, they kind of need a pro’s help right now.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz sighs. Even if he’s not a hero, he’s dedicated himself to doing good hero work. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Good hero work absolutely does not include leaving an injured kid to bleed out. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“He’s over here.” Punz calls evenly, saying a silent prayer. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The winged hero’s massive wingspan comes into view, temporarily shrouding Punz and Purpled in shadow.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The hero lands gracefully and tears across the parking lot over to Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, my god. What happened? Did you two do this?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Philza’s large wingspan extended several feet into the sky, towering over Punz. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Jesus Christ this guy is scary. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The look on his face is even scarier. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No,” Punz starts.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“He actually saved me!” Purpled pipes up, rising from crouching next to Tommy. “Sapnap almost barbecued me but Tommy used his quirk to disperse the flames! I didn’t even know that was possible. I always thought he was quirkless.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Sapnap?” Phil murmurs with horror. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Yes,” Punz says with disdain. “I almost caught him, but I couldn’t keep an eye on both him and Tommy, so he got away.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil places a hand on Punz’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, mate.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Punz sighs. “I know, but Sap’s my brother. I was hoping to, I don’t know, maybe reconnect. Discourage him from a life of crime, maybe?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You’re brothers? I didn’t know Sapnap had siblings.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“We’ve kind of been laying low.” Purpled chimes in, staring up at the hero with starry eyes. “I can’t believe I’m meeting a hero in person.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Anyway,” Punz interjects. “Tommy will be fine. He passed out and bumped his head a little. It’s nothing major.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Thank you, you two did a very good thing today.” Phil steps closer to Tommy. “Oh, kid. Why’d you run off?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“He said he said something embarrassing to you.” Purpled informs the hero. “Like, that he loves you or something. It was super weird and out of the blue.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil sighs. “I see.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">So Tommy didn’t mean it after all. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil knew it was too good to be true. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>two chapters in one day lol </p><p>i write when I feel bad and I have not been doin okay lately ughv anyways enjoy </p><p>three new characters wahoo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. the choice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There comes a time in everyone’s life when you’re faced with a decision.</p>
<p>You have to make a choice.</p>
<p>Short chapter, but it’s short for a reason.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy awoke with a gasp, scrambling to his feet in an instant.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Why are you always here? Every time something happens, you are always here! I can’t fucking get rid of you!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy, careful! You’re injur—“ Phil approaches Tommy, his hand outstretched. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t need your help.” Tommy barks, slapping the hero’s hand away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil stares at Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I can never tell what you’re thinking. It drives me fucking crazy.” Tommy grumbles, turning on his heel.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’m just worried about you, mate.” The hero says solemnly, running a hand through his hair. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah? Well, stop it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil exhales forcefully. “I can’t—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I didn’t ask you to worry, did I? I don’t need your help.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“But you’re struggling, and I care about you, Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy exhales through clenched teeth. “Well, I don’t care about you, so get lost. I’d sooner die than accept help from a hero.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’m not coming to you as a hero,” Phil raises his voice, balling his hands into fists. “I’m here as a friend.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy barks out a wry laugh. “We are not fucking friends.” His cold eyes meet Phil’s watery ones, and Tommy swallows a pang of guilt.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I saved your life,” Phil murmurs in a hoarse whisper, his eyes shining with tears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I didn’t ask you to!” Tommy throws his hands out to the side, taking a threatening step toward the hero. “I don’t owe you anything, so stop acting like I do.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No, you’ve got it all wrong!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t care about what you have to say,” Tommy hisses, his body shaking with tension.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Please, will you just listen to me?” Phil’s voice breaks, and he curses, wiping tears from his eyes with his sleeve. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t care about what you have to say,” Tommy repeats slowly, his voice dripping with venom. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil presses his lips together, pulling his wings in on themselves. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tch.” Tommy turns his back to the hero. “I knew you were a coward.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’m a coward for caring about someone?” Phil growls.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy sneaks a glance at Phil, and something about the hero had changed. He had extended his wings offensively, and his eyes were blank, reminding Tommy of Dream.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes widening. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The hero stares at the pavement, his hair concealing his expression. “All this time, I’ve just been trying to help. I protected you from Dream; I offered you everything I had.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy takes a step back, his hands trembling. “I told you I didn’t want you to. It’s not my fault.” Tommy curses inwardly at the wavering of his voice.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“It’s my job!” The hero barks, his wings flapping behind him. “That’s all it was.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Your job is meddling with teenagers who don’t need your help?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You do need help, Tommy! Stop acting like you don’t! I know you’re hurt, I know you don’t think you can trust anyone, at least let me do my job and get you something to eat.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy narrows his eyes, rage welling in the pit of his stomach. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Please,” The hero whispers desperately. “Please, just come back with me. Ranboo and Tubbo are there, and they’re worried about you. Please, just let me help you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You lost your fuckin’ chance.” Tommy snaps darkly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t you trust Ranboo and Tubbo? They brought you there, not me.” Phil pleads. “They know what’s best for you, don’t they?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy growls. “Don’t use my friends as bait to dangle over me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Why don’t you understand?” The hero cries. “What do I have to do to get you to understand?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy gazes evenly at Phil. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I understand everything just fine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No,” Phil shakes his head, tears falling to the sidewalk. “No you don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy crosses his arms, scowling “What don’t I understand, oh mighty hero?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Phil meets Tommy’s gaze, balancing out Tommy’s malice with his own look of adoration. “You aren’t weak for accepting help from others.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy opens his mouth to speak, but finds he has no words to say. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You can’t carry the weight of the world on your own. You shouldn’t think you have to. You deserve people who care about you.” Phil takes a cautious step toward the teenager, who let his arms fall to his sides. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to be alone anymore. You don’t have to worry about watching your back at every turn.” Phil takes a deep breath, followed by an unsteady exhale. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I haven’t been doing this to spite you, or for some kind of self-satisfaction. I’m doing this because I recognize your strength. Even the strongest heroes work with others. People need others to rely on, to deny that is to deny your own humanity.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy grits his teeth, letting his gaze fall to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You can trust again,” The hero continues. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy grinds his teeth, pressing his fingernails into the skin of his palm.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Is it possible he’s wrong? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Has he made a mistake somewhere along the way? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy wants to give in so badly. He wants to hold onto Phil and never let go. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’s scared. He’s so unbelievably scared. He doesn’t want to run away anymore. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tommy looks at you.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">You’ve been here for the whole story. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">What do you think Tommy should do? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Take the risk? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">What if Phil leaves him just like everyone else? Would he even be able to handle that? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">So, reader. You have a choice to make.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Choose carefully. Your decision will affect the course of Tommy’s life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What should Tommy do?</p>
<p>•Go with Philza</p>
<p>•Do not go with Philza</p>
<p>it’s officially an interactive story. cast your vote in the comments.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. parting clouds give way to sunshine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy makes a decision.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It starts to rain. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The rain dampens Tommy’s hair and cools his skin.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sound of water splashing against the pavement drowns out even Tommy’s own thoughts. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rivers of runoff gurgle down the storm drain. Distant voices shout in discomfort as they run for shelter.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy shivers under the mercy of the clouds. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s just a kid caught in the rain. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s going to catch a cold.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Previously, Tommy didn’t have anyone to care for him if he got sick. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t afford to get sick before. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could let all of that go if he just trusted the man in front of him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is it too good to be true?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything is so loud. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go with Phil.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Don’t go.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go to him.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go with Philza. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go to Dadza. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go with him! </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">GO!!</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hot tears mix with the rain water and spill down Tommy’s cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The humidity makes the air hard to breathe.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels like he’s suffocating.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His hot breaths turn to steam as he exhales a shaking sigh. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All Tommy wants is to not be on his own anymore. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t want to take care of himself alone anymore. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">God, that soup tasted good. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s stomach rumbles. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could get more soup. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Couldn’t he?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All he had to do was take the leap.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So why wasn’t he moving?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Why couldn’t he form words? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Why was he so fucking scared?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know.” Tommy choked out, his hair fell into his face, weighed down by the moisture. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hero may have said something; if he did, his voice got lost in the rain.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything felt so cold. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s always been cold. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is there any chance he could be warm again? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go to Phil.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go with Phil! </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Please, Tommy, go with Phil. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">YOU NEED HIS HELP. GO.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Don’t go. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Don’t go; you’re not ready.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Accept and prove him wrong.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Go with Tubbo and Ranboo!</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s all so loud. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After all he’s done, does Tommy even deserve Phil’s help? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s been fighting for seventeen years; is it finally time to raise the white flag? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Water vapor condenses in the atmosphere far above the small cities below.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Can Tommy trust again? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Outdoor concerts are postponed due to the forecast. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Is it true? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">A thick layer of humidity hangs in the air outside of a school, warning the schoolchildren of the incoming downpour. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s tired. He’s frustrated and sick of running away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dense stratus clouds block out the fleeting sunlight, shrouding the city below in a melancholy fog.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He needs to take his problems on head-on. No more running away. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>A thunderclap echoes around the empty city, whose citizens were all taking cover inside.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has to go with Phil. Tommy has to trust him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>The sky opens up, giving way to an onslaught of freezing rainfall. It pounds mercilessly on the roofs of buildings, soaks the fur of feral animals caught in the storm, and washes away the grime on the street.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a deep sigh, Tommy kicks off the ground and crashes into Phil’s arms, loud sobs escaping his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The rain stops. Water drips off of Phil’s feathers as he shields the boy from the harsh elements.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hero warms Tommy’s hypothermic skin; The boy melts into the touch, relishing in the safety of Phil’s arms.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy has never felt so warm in his entire goddamn life.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shh, it’s okay now. I promise you’re okay.” The hero brushes a damp lock of hair out of Tommy’s eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy whimpers; The fatigue of everything he’s been through has finally caught up to him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil gently picks up Tommy, one arm wrapped around Tommy’s lower back, the other wrapped around his knees. Phil coils his wings around his body, completely encasing the boy in his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out a small sigh. His head feels foggy, but it brings him no anxiety.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can afford to get sick now.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gradually, the gentle pattering of the rain and rocking of the hero’s footsteps lull Tommy to sleep.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil gently places Tommy on the couch, wrapping him in a towel.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stares down at the sleeping boy with a soft smile.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks so peaceful compared to his usual chaotic self. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s almost cute.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hero slowly backs into the kitchen, taking extra care not to wake Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil hums softly as he removes his rain-soaked cloak and hangs it on the coatrack. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He strides over to the sink and fills a pot with water. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With two clicks of the dial, the stove hums to life. Phil places the pot of water on the stove, then reaches over to the cabinet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He decides on some simple chicken broth. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Luckily, he had Techno defrost some chicken breast for this express purpose before he left.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil can’t help but smile to himself as he cuts small pieces of chicken and deposits them into the pot. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kids love chicken; Tommy will surely adore this. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The hero spares a glance back at the couch before he collects a container of broth powder from the cabinet adjacent to the one he got the pot from. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He deposits a serving size of powder into the pot, turning off the stove with a gentle click.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stirs the broth for a moment before pouring it into a tupperware container. He seals the container and scribbles a note for Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Heat this in the microwave if you’d like. -Phil.”</span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil sighs. A weight has been lifted off his shoulders. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3">
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Another short chapter!! sorry i had to write and post this immediately i could not help myself</p><p>are u ducklings happy now?</p><p>Also, the response to the last chapter has been OVERWHELMING. I got 60+ comments. I didn’t know 60 of you still read this fic. I love u all ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. the choice part two electric boogaloo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You are once again presented with a choice.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Don’t fucking call me that!” Tommy screamed, his voice hoarse. “You don’t get to call me that. You stupid fucking heroes don’t care about people. You don’t give a shit about saving lives. You only care about yourselves and the money you make if you meet your arrest quota. You don’t bother to learn our stories, to help those in need, ‘cause once you dub someone as a criminal, you don’t have an ounce of compassion anymore!”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“It’s not like that,” Philza said softly, stepping forward.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“If I can still stand at all, then I’ll stand between you and danger. I’ll protect you no matter what it takes.” Phil said firmly.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>You’re feverish, mate. You had a fever dream.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Oh,” Tommy murmured. “So you’re not dead?”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Phil shook his head softly, smiling down fondly at Tommy. “No. I’m still here. You’re stuck with me.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Okay.” Tommy thought for a moment. “I want to be stuck with you, actually.” He slurred, smiling dopily.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">The hero chuckled gently. “I want to be stuck with you, too.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Me, Techno, and Wilbur got kind of roughed up protecting you from a villain.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Me?” Tommy questioned as if he didn’t believe the man.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Yes, because we care about you,” Phil said slowly.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“You do?”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Yes, kid.” Phil smiled tenderly. “We always have.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Oh,” Tommy replied plainly. “I like you guys, too.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">I will make this distinction clear: those three pricks are </span> <span class="s2">not</span> <span class="s1"> Tommy’s heroes. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Nothing has changed; he still hates their guts.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Yet Phil’s kind eyes peering affectionately down at him made him feel so fucking </span> <span class="s2">safe</span> <span class="s1">.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“Come on, don’t you need a place to live?” Phil presses once more. “Just come with us.”</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Why do you care so much?” Tommy responds coldly. “Shouldn’t you be treating me like you treat the countless other homeless people you encounter?”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Well,” Phil starts.</em></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">“Let me stop you right there,” Tommy says in a low voice. “I will never cooperate with you stuck-up heroes, whether you’ve saved my life or not.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>  </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Tommy surrounds the “saved my life” bit with air quotes.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares up at the ceiling blearily. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He feels as if he’s made a mistake somewhere along the way.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Did he misjudge the heroes? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Is he the one in the wrong? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">How does he fix this? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Does he even need to?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s actions don’t make any sense to Tommy. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why would Phil care about someone like Tommy if not to save his own skin? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy and his friends are just some homeless kids. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy simply does not understand. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There’s so much Tommy doesn’t understand. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil has wasted so much time and energy on chasing after someone who insulted him over and over. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why didn’t Phil give up on Tommy the moment he was cussed out in that alley? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Why? </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What was so important about Tommy?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels a pang of guilt wrack through his weary body. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Is it possible that Tommy was wrong all along? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Does he owe Phil an apology? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Does he even deserve forgiveness? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s sorry to do this again, but what do you think? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Was he wrong? Should he apologize? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Or was he right? Should he stand by his convictions? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You are once again presented with a choice.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>you are once again presented with a choice.</p><p>what should tommy do? </p><p>•you were wrong; apologize.<br/>•you were right; stand your ground.</p><p>another dilemma!! cast ur vote i will consider each comment carefully</p><p>Also, as the author, I ask you: What do you think it will take to get Tommy to betray his convictions?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. i’ll give you irrefutable proof that i love you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The power goes out. Tommy’s afraid of the dark. </p>
<p>Somehow, everything goes okay, and it’s all thanks to a certain someone.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No, no there’s no way Tommy could be wrong on this. Tommy is always right. How could he trust Phil is who he says he is?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You guys are right. He’ll just use the heroes to his advantage and leave when they’re no longer needed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He refuses to be patronized by people who think they’re all high and mighty.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’ll stick with Tubbo and Ranboo, keep his wits about him, and when the time is right, he’ll get the fuck out of this dump. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He sits up, rubbing his head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>
      <span class="s1">Heat this up if you’d like. - Phil. </span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy scoffs. Like he’d fall for that twice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His stomach rumbles. Traitor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Fine, whatever. He’ll eat the stupid soup. Not because Phil made it for him, but because it’s convenient. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy finishes the soup with a soft sigh, and examines the area. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">So, this is Phil’s house. Of course he would have marble countertops and hardwood floors. Prick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Toms. How’re you feeling? You like the soup?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart gives a squeeze at the nickname, and Tommy curses at it under his breath. “Yeah, it was okay, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Phil takes a seat on the couch next to Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy scowls, now properly annoyed. “Says who? I still feel awful.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Only Ranboo and Tubbo get to call him that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Even so, Tommy doesn’t correct the man.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil sighs. “You look less ill, at least.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil is silent for a moment. “You ever plan on letting that hard outer shell of yours go?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy frowns. “No. I’m not soft. I don’t understand you heroes and your annoying good-guy bullshit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil raises an eyebrow, shifting toward Tommy. “What’s that mean?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sighs, as if it’s obvious. “You don’t know any of these people. Why do you care so much even if it hurts you? Wouldnt you be better off leaving me — I mean them — alone?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil looks at Tommy for a moment. “You may not understand now, but one day you’ll be faced to choose between yourself, and someone you love; A choice so difficult to the outside eye that it may be considered impossible to choose. Except, in this moment, you’ll find the choice so easy to make that you barely have to think. To you, there is only one right answer. Maybe then you’ll understand what it means to love someone.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck does that mean, Socrates? I dropped out of school, don’t you remember?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil offers a small chuckle, tousling Tommy’s hair. “It takes time. I know you’ll come around one day.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy growls, pushing the hero’s hand away. “Okay, old man. Don’t think you can be condescending to me just because i accepted your help.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, I am not being condescending. I’m simply saying to you that you will understand at the precise moment that it matters, and not a moment sooner.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I still don’t get what that means, dickhead.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know how to explain it to you other than that, mate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever,” Tommy says for the billionth time, standing up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Where are you going?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Outside.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t, there’s a huge snowstorm going on right now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bites his lip, scowling. “Fine.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Since when does Tommy listen to people? Is he getting soft?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The lights flicker, and Tommy’s nerves send a shock of electricity down his spine. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What was that?” Tommy asks, a little too fearfully for his liking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“The power’s been spotty for a while cause of the storm.” Wilbur mumbles, shuffling into the living room.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You look tired.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I was watching over Tubbo and Ranboo all night.” Wilbur says with a yawn, taking a seat on the couch. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How come?” Tommy narrows his eyes at Wilbur. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“‘Cause I like to watch people sleep,” Wilbur says with a sarcastic gesture. “I was making sure they were doing alright. What else, Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You heroes are always up to something,” Tommy grumbles, slumping against the back of the couch. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Seriously, Tommy, you’d suspect a hero of malicious intent before you’d even think about a villain doing the same. Where’re your priorities at?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I guess I can see the appeal of being a villain.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur gapes at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil looks offended. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why is your face like that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Villains kill people,” Wilbur says in a serious tone, as if Tommy isn’t aware. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy points his finger at Wilbur. “Not all of them, whistle boy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur squawks in protest.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re just proving my point, big man.” Tommy says with a mischievous grin.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur lunges at Tommy. “You little shit—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil smacks his palm to Wilbur’s forehead. “Wil, clam down. You’re a hero; act like it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“But Phil,” Wilbur whines. “He’s being annoying.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay? So be the bigger man and ignore him, mate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur scoffs. “Please, ignoring him would only make him more annoying.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Can confirm,” Tommy agrees with a click of his tongue. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Guys, come on—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil is cut off by the gentle click of the lights flickering off, the air conditioners humming to a halt, and the overhead fan slowing to a stop. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy knows now isn’t the best time to say it,but he’s incredibly afraid of the dark. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">I know, you wouldn’t expect it from such a courageous and cunning man such as TommyInnit, but every hero has to have an Achilles heel. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Right now, he’s got an arrow in his.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He subconsciously scoots closer to Phil as Tubbo, Ranboo, and Techno come stumbling out of their rooms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil hums as he switches on the lamp on the coffee table. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s battery-powered.” The hero says, smiling at Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why’d you turn that on? We have plenty of generator power. We could just, like, hook one up to the TV or something.” Wilbur asks, shooting Phil a sideways glance.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy looked a little spooked. Figured it would help.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That fucker. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I was not scared, you stupid bitch! You think a street urchin like me would be afraid of the dark? You’re dumber than I thought.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil just rolls his eyes. “Okay, so I can turn it off, then?” The hero reaches over to the switch on the lamp.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No!” Tommy cried with alarm, “Um, you can keep it on.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil just smiles at him. “Okay, mate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Stupid heroes and their stupid condescending smiles that aren’t even that condescending, and honestly they make Tommy feel safe, like he’s watching TV on a Saturday morning and his dad comes down and ruffles his hair before he leaves to go to work. He supposes it’s similar to when you get a good grade on a test and your dad takes you out to your favorite fast food place and he tells you how proud he is, and what a fine young man you’re growing into—</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Ranboo waves a gloved hand in front of Tommy’s face. “Earth to Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What? Huh?” Tommy startles. “When did you get here?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I came in when the power went out. I can’t actually see that well in the dark. I think it’s a drawback of my quirk.” Ranboo studies his gloved hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy recalls getting Ranboo those custom-made gloves for his abnormally large hands as a birthday gift last year. It was just after they met him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo got him those sunglasses. They’re special, they help his awful vision. Ranboo cried. It was hilarious.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels that fuzzy feeling of belonging well up in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Are you okay?” Wilbur asks. “You had this really intense look on your face.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy makes a face. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, yeah.” Tubbo snorts, sitting next to Ranboo on the floor. “Tommy makes that face when he’s being all emo.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, you dickhead? I do not make any kind of face, you’re crazy, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo gives a low chuckle. “It’s okay, Tommy. You can talk to us. We’re your friends.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy squawks. “The only thing I was thinking about was how to get out of here and away from you lunatics!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo leans his head against Ranboo’s shoulder, yawning. “Love you too, Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo snickers, his broad shoulders shaking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You are all such idiots, oh my fucking god.” Tommy mumbles, shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, is anyone else fucking freezing?” Wilbur asks through chattering teeth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Yeah, actually, now that Tommy thinks about it, it does feel like an average night in that garage of his. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shrugs cooly. “I dunno. This is room temperature where I live.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo nods, scooting closer to Ranboo, who takes off his jacket and wraps it around the two of them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Awww,” Techno sneers from the armchair next to the fireplace. “You two are so cute.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo opens his mouth to protest, but Tubbo interrupts him. “Thanks! We’re going to get married as soon as we can.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Platonically,” Ranboo adds with a nervous grin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno raises an eyebrow, not expecting that kind of response to his teasing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shivers, and Phil frees his wing from behind his back and swaddles Tommy in it. Tommy shuffles to protest, but god damn this man was so warm. He tries to subtly rest his head against Phil’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“My feathers are very similar to many species of birds who live in cold climates. They trap heat extremely well.” Tommy can feel Phil’s feathers puff up with pride.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It absolutely was not endearing. Boy, you guys have to get your shit together.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gazes out the window at the onslaught of sleet and hail that barraged the lawns and driveways of the nearby houses. A shiver of dread trickles down his spine, and he squeezes his eyes shut.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Just think about something else. Anything else. Definitely not dying of hypothermia. Seriously, that’s one of the worst ways to go. Ever since he read about the Dyatlov Pass incident, he hasn’t been able to sleep soundly. That shit is so terrifying.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels something jostle him. “You guys want to hear about some funny hero stories?” He hears Phil’s muffled voice from above.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sure.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Go for it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ah,” The hero grins. “Here’s my favorite. The police were busy with a different incident, so they asked me to check out this noise complaint. Apparently this old lady was really annoyed about a woodpecker doin’ it’s thing outside her house. Weird hill to die on, but okay. Anyway, I arrive at the scene, by flying obviously, and this lady fucking slide tackles me. She starts beating the shit out of me — not that well, but she tried — saying something about satan’s birds interrupting her morning tea or something. Then I had to get this lady off of me and calmly explain that I am not, in fact, a giant woodpecker, I am just a Philza. She starts crying and apologizing to me ‘cause I think she thought I was an angel or something, I don’t really know. Anyways I ask if she still needs help with the woodpecker and she just looks at me like I’m insane. I’m sat here like, you just accused me of being a spawn of satan and confused me for a giant bird and my sanity is the one we’re questioning? Absolutely nutty.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy listens to the hero talk, feeling the chest beneath his head rumble as Phil spoke.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The heat from Phil’s body comforted Tommy, and the hero’s feathers felt like a fluffy blanket. He might get shit for it, but right now he’s too tired to care. He lets his eyes flutter closed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2"><span class="s1">Phil continues to tell stories, and Tommy lets the gentle cadence of Phil’s words lull him</span> <span class="s1">to sleep.</span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>that end picture doesn’t have much to do with this particular chapter but i’m choosing to show u now </p>
<p>hello ducklings. it is father duck. this time I bring you a whole loaf of bread. u better share or i will keep my crumbs to myself</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. dollars to doughnuts, you’re falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy is finding it quite hard to continue hating Phil.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>1,000+ kudos!!! on my silly little fic!! that’s insane!!! ily all</p><p>also for more insight into the way i characterize phil and tommy:</p><p>listen to eight by sleeping at last for tommy’s character</p><p>listen to two by sleeping at last for phil</p><p>pls they’re such good songs &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy wakes to the distinct aroma of bacon wafting through the air. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The power must be back on.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Another brilliant deduction from your favorite unreliable narrator, TommyInnit.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy mumbles something as he shifts his weight, trying to get comfortable again.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">To his surprise, he can still feel feathers resting against his forearms. Tommy opens his eyes with a disoriented murmur. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He lifts his head from its spot on Phil’s shoulder, taking a better look at the hero. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy rested against the hero’s right side, the respective wing coiled protectively around Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">On Phil’s left side, Ranboo and Tubbo huddled under his left wing; Tubbo held Ranboo’s jacket up to his chin like a blanket.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As far as he could tell, Tommy was the only one awake. He wasn’t sure where Techno and Wilbur were.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy flinches slightly. Tommy doesn’t know much about wings, but being stuck in that position for an extended period does not look comfortable.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy rolls his eyes internally. Yet again, this prick is sacrificing himself for others in that infuriating way that Tommy could never understand.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why does he do this to himself so often? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy slides off the couch to sit on the floor, unwilling to be caught snuggling up to the enemy. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy watches with a fierce glare as Phil turns onto his left side, placing his right wing over the other two boys. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Does he even do that shit in his sleep?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What the actual fuck.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Is he so committed to his deceit that he trained himself to act like a hero in his sleep? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">At this point, Tommy is starting to think that maybe Phil does this shit naturally. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That would imply Tommy is wrong, however, which cannot happen.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy furrows his eyebrows with a low-pitched growl. This hero is pissing him off.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Techno made bacon. Do you lot want any?” Wilbur calls from the kitchen. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stands, his stomach rumbling. “Hell yeah!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur flinches as Tommy’s shouting wakes the hero on the couch, and Tommy braces himself for the imminent berating, but Phil smiles at him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Good morning, Tommy.” the hero greets with a yawn. “How’d you sleep?” Tommy watches as Phil takes extra care not to move his wings and disturb Ranboo or Tubbo.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy scowls. Why is he so fucking committed? “Fine,” Tommy replies shortly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil grins again. “Good. Looks like the power’s back on. You made it; I’m proud of you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s face contorts in a mixture of revolt and shock. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dickhead?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil hums. “You just seemed scared. So, I’m proud of you for making it through.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy squawks in outrage. “I was not scared, you prick! You are the worst. An absolute wrong’n says I.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil feigns distress. “I’m hurt.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy frowns. “Sorry,” he says quickly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil barks out a laugh. “I’m just messing with ya, mate.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s face turns beet red. “You’ve got some nerve, dickhead! I ought to walk out that door right now! Ranboo, Tubbo, let’s go.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo lifts his head, peeking out from behind Phil’s wing with a squint. “What’s up, big man?” he slurs, brushing hair out of his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo murmurs something along the lines of “Why’re we leaving?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy turns and stalks over to the door, laying a hand on the doorknob threateningly. “I’m gonna go. I’m going to walk out this door right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, please,” Phil says with a slight chuckle. “I’m sorry, I take it back.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not taking me seriously.” Tommy counters, aghast. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What makes you think that?” Phil yawns, stretching his wing. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I will do it,” Tommy threatens once more.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hurry up, mate. I don’t have all day.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, this is stupid. It’s still freezing out there.” Ranboo mutters, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, fine,” Tommy rebukes with an exhaled breath. “but only because Ranboo says so.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thank god,” Phil says with mock relief. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re a huge dick; you know that?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I’m the mean one in this friendship.” Phil chuckles, standing up and stretching his other wing. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You sure are!” Tommy accuses, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So, you agree we’re friends?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy blows hot stream out of his nose. “I—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So, are you guys gonna come eat or not?” Wilbur asks, setting pieces of bacon on the plates at the table. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy races over to the table. “Yes, Wilbur. Thank you, Wilbur.” He stuffs a strip of bacon in his mouth and swallows it all in one fell swoop. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur chuckles. “You must be hungry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I am, thank you.” Tommy bristles. “How’d you know?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Gee,” Phil sneers, gently patting Tommy on the back. “I wonder how.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy makes a noise through the bacon in his mouth and spins around to face the hero. “Oh, yeah? Care to share with the class, dickhead?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“Nothing much,” Phil rests his hands behind his head. “Just that all three of you are basically </span> <span class="s1">skin and bones.”</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, starving or not, I always look like this.” Ranboo murmurs, taking a seat at the table.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">After everyone is seated at the table, Phil unfolds the newspaper and studies it, absently munching on a bagel. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo snorts. “You’re such a dad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil doesn’t raise his gaze from the paper. “To whom?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Just in general,” Ranboo says.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">At the same time, Tommy chides, “You want to be mine so bad,” under his breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I will be, don’t you worry.” the hero fires back without missing a beat.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Like hell! I’d rather die!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure you would, Tommy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t underestimate me! I will run away again!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, Tommy, you’re already acting like my kid. It looks like I was right.” Phil teases as he sips his coffee. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy growls. “Shut up! Just shut up.” Tommy crosses his arms over his chest, his ears burning.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Awww, Tommy’s embarrassed.” Wilbur coos mockingly. “It’s okay, Tommy, we know you love Phil.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You dick! Did you tell them?” Tommy stands, his mouth is wide in shock.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo drops the toast he was holding.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno raises an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur grins.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, mate. I didn’t say anything.” Phil breaks his facade with a soft giggle.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s face gets so hot it threatens to melt off. He sits back down with a hard exhale as he realizes he walked right into that one. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur giggles, “Oh, Tommy, did you tell Phil you loved him? Aww, our little Tommy’s gotten attached.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy slams his fists on the table, rattling the silverware. “I do not have to withstand this cruelty! I’m leaving.” He stands abruptly, stalking over to the door and flinging it open. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shivers in the cold, almost immediately regretting his decision and yearning to return to the warmth of the house. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy has not gotten soft, nor could he ever love that dickhead son-of-a-bitch bastard “hero.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy growls, kicking at a patch of ice. His worn soles slip on the frozen ground, and he falls backward into the air. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He feels something catch him, and his stomach lurches as he feels his body move upward drastically. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy scrambles to move, but he finds his movements limited by a pair of arms wrapped around his torso.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil smiles down at Tommy, wings beating majestically.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No, fuck that. His wings are stupid and ugly and not poggers. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy screeches. “What the fuck are you doing, you psychopath? Put me back on solid ground right now!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Nah, I figured you could use a nice trip through the sky. It always calms my nerves.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Tommy shouts over the wind incredulously. “You’re used to flying fifty feet off the ground, and I am not!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re a strong kid. I’m sure you can handle it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart does not soar in pride at that comment. It does not.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Fine,” Tommy concedes, watching as the ground below him gets farther away. “Where are we going?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Nowhere in particular,” Phil answers, effortlessly dodging a rogue crow fluttering through the air. “Unless you have somewhere in mind?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy does have somewhere in mind. The question is, though, would he ever let bird boy over here think he’s doing Tommy a favor? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The answer to that is no.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Come on, I know you have somewhere you want to go. I can see it in your eyes.” Phil presses, and Tommy can hear his smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, I don’t. Don’t act as you know me.” Tommy detests, looking away from the hero.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil jostles him a little, letting Tommy’s feet dangle precariously over the stomach-churning drop.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Holy fuck,” Tommy squeals in panic, instinctively grabbing Phil’s arms and holding on for dear life. “Okay, okay, I do have somewhere I want to go, just please don’t drop me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil chuckles softly, moving his arm to support Tommy’s legs again. “I was never going to drop you, mate. I had a perfect hold on you the whole time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“You asshole!” Tommy bowls in rage. “How </span> <span class="s1">fucking dare you—“</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“Tommy,” Phil warns, releasing his hand from </span> <span class="s1">Tommy’s calf. “Tell me where you want to go.”</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wah!” Tommy cries with alarm, tightening his grasp on Phil’s arm. “Okay, it’s this donut shop on South Avenue; I always wanted to go, but everyone there always looked at me weird, and I was kinda scared to go in, plus I never had any money,”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Jesus, kid.” Phil chortles, moving Tommy, so he had a better grip on the teen. “Calm down. I was never going to drop you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Stop fucking with me, dickhead!” Tommy roars, the childlike fear on his face betraying him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not.” The hero says simply. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy rolls his eyes. “Sure.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The hero laughs, and Tommy can feel his chest rumble. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy cracks a small smile, gazing up at Phil. Tommy then realizes what he’s doing and quickly wipes the grin off his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We’re here. Prepare for landing.” Phil holds Tommy closer to his chest, tightening his grip on Tommy’s back and legs. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil folds his wings in slightly, the wind stings Tommy’s skin and tousles his hair violently as the ground rapidly approaches.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Then, just as Tommy braces to crash into the pavement, he feels the wind catch something above him, and his feet gently touch the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil slowly lets go of Tommy, making sure the teen kept his balance.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Holy shit. That was so fucking cool.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What? Just because Phil provided Tommy with the most fun experience of his life doesn’t mean Tommy magically likes the hero now.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Though, it was tough not to smile at Phil right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil opens the door to the café with a jingle from the bell above. He waits for Tommy to enter, then follows Tommy in.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The delicious aroma of coffee and doughnuts blessed Tommy’s nostrils as he walked in. The warm atmosphere of the café severely contrasted the icy climate outside, providing Tommy with an innate sense of comfort that begged him to spend the rest of his life here.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy dashes up to the counter, a wide grin painted across his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The clerk smiles at him, and Tommy smiles wider. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What can I get for you two?” The clerk greets warmly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil nods at Tommy, urging him to make a choice. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um,” Tommy mumbles. “Can I get two glazed doughnuts, and,” Tommy lifts his gaze to Phil. “can we get Tubbo and Ranboo some, too?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil chuckles. “Sure, kid.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, so, can I also get a creme-filled one and a blueberry one?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The clerk nods. “For you, sir?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Just a coffee, please. One cream, one sugar.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Alright,” The clerk slides the box of doughnuts across the counter to Tommy. “That’ll be $17.54, cash or card?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil opens his wallet, drawing his debit card and handing it to the clerk. “Tommy, why don’t you go find us a seat?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay!” Tommy chirps, scurrying over to a booth by the window. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The clerk hands Phil’s card back. “Thank you, your coffee will be out in a moment.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil takes the card with a smile, and presses a twenty-dollar bill into the clerk’s hand. “That’s for you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The clerk gasps softly. “You heroes are so kind!” she grins.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I try.” Phil sighs, glancing at Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um, Philza, right? Forgive me for asking, but I didn’t know you had a son.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">Phil raises an eyebrow. “Oh, him?” He doesn’t take his eyes off of Tommy. “He’s not my </span> <span class="s1">son.”</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, sorry for assuming—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“But I love him like one.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this one was a fun one to write!!</p><p>how do u all like this one? are the crumbs sufficient? u happy ducklings? let me know</p><p>i want to know what u ducklings think. leave me comments u little aviankind rascals</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. reflection of my own unbearable image</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>One minute, you’re alone. The next, you’re faced with someone you could never hope to understand. All you know is you never want them to leave.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>please listen to “eight” and “two” by sleeping at last, they inspired this chapter greatly.</p><p>also trigger warning for implied death, suicidal themes</p><p>it makes sense i promise</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">I remember the minute;</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">It was like a switch was flipped</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">I was just a kid who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up, and suddenly it fit.</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">I won’t let you in, I swore never again, I can’t afford, no, I refuse to be rejected.</span> </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No more blindsiding, no more pain. Tommy’s in high school now; he doesn’t need anyone but himself. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’ll build a dam to keep anything from coming to the surface and he’ll protect his heart with an iron fist. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Never again. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t need parents, he doesn’t need some foster family that’s only in it for the money, he doesn’t need shit.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t need someone bossing him around,telling him what to do all the time.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He has himself, and he has Tubbo. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What else could you need? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No one can know how much Tommy has to lose.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In a similar vein, Tommy has nothing to gain from others. Anything they can do, Tommy can do himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He has to prove he’s strong enough to stand on his own.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The reason he doesn’t have anyone is because he doesn’t need anyone, not because everyone he’s ever loved abandoned him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Right?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t lie awake at night wishing he was in a warm bed with supper waiting on his bedside table. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t need coddling. He’s not like that.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s built different.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy doesn’t like when people touch him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">People don’t hug him or hold his hands because Tommy doesn’t let them, not because no one has ever asked to. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gets into fights because he’s tough and willing to stand up for what’s right, not because he’s so touch-starved that he’s resorted to picking fights with people just to feel something.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s always been the one to cheer Tubbo up when he’s down, and now that Ranboo has joined them, he prides himself in being Ranboo’s shoulder to cry on. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Never once has Tommy had a shoulder of his own. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t need one, no matter how much his heart aches to let go and his dam threatens to burst. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pushes people away because he doesn’t need anyone else, not because he’s been told he’s a liability by everyone he’s ever trusted. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Why can’t you be normal?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">What the fuck is wrong with you?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">You’re not my son. You’re an abomination.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Fine; Tommy doesn’t need her anyway. He never did.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">I just asked you to dance because I thought it would be funny. Sorry.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">No one likes you, Tommy. Go away.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Why are you so loud? Were you raised by farm animals? </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">I was only pretending to be your friend because I was dared to.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Sorry, man. I can’t hang out. Right after you asked me to come over, my friend asked me if I wanted to come swim at his pool, and you know, it’s a pool. I’m sure you understand.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">We didn’t invite you because we knew you didn’t have the money and none of us wanted to pick up the slack.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Tommy doesn’t have a lab partner; Is anyone not paired up yet?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Fine; He doesn’t need them anyway.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t need anyone.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Whenever someone smiles at him, Tommy can see through their fake friendliness. He knows they think he’s weird, or loud, or gross, whatever.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">People aren’t kind to Tommy, that’s just the irrefutable truth. When they say nice things, it’s only to fuel their own ego, thinking they’re some kind of saint for complimenting the poor outcast kid. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The second people realize Tommy can’t provide them with anything, they leave. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can only count on himself to stay.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Even as he stood atop the highest building in the city, begging for someone to come save him, no one did. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The heroes were busy at some ceremony; Who cares. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Even as Tommy sat alone on the street, drenched in freezing rainwater, begging for someone to spare even a passing glance, no one did.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy doesn’t care what their excuse is. They’re all just pretending to be heroes, counting dollar bills with their feet on the desk.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Nothing will ever change that. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It’s the irrefutable truth.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">You know I’ll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat. </span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1"><em>Like a</em> <em>force to be reckoned with, a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss; I will love you with every single thing I have.</em></span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">Like a tidal wave I’ll make a mess, or calm waters if that serves you best. I will love you without any strings attached.</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1"><em>It’s okay if you can’t catch your breath; you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest</em>. </span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil remembers the day all too vividly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was a rainy November afternoon, he had gotten there a minute too late. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">If he hadn’t tripped on the way out the door, or if he didn’t forget his cellphone, that kid would have been safe.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">That kid would have been safe.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The blood lay splattered all over Phil’s hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was his fault. If he had just gotten there a little earlier — or maybe if he caught the villain the week or month before — maybe, just maybe, that child would be safe in his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t get there on time. He tripped leaving the agency, he forgot his phone in the break room, he lost precious seconds that cost a human life. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">An innocent life was ripped from this world all because he was too incompetent of a hero to save it. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil couldn’t bear to live with himself after that. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He went through the motions, sure, but he wasn’t himself. He arrested people for loitering, trespassing, staying out after curfew, all the things that any ordinary person could do. He didn’t deserve to fight villains or bust crime operations. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Every time he looked in the mirror, he saw it.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A failure, covered in innocent blood. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t stand to look at himself. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur and Techno would tell him it’s not his fault, but Phil knew they were just saying that to make him feel better.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil knew he didn’t deserve to feel better.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">One day, Phil met Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy, this young boy, talked some sense into Phil’s withered mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In Tommy, Phil saw a chance to save a life before it was in jeopardy. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The first time Phil fought a villain in years was when he was protecting Tommy from Dream.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This time, he didn’t make the same mistake. He was willing to die rather than trade another child’s life away. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was a reasonable atonement.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This time, Phil would hold on and never let go.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He swears his life on it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so ya if u didn’t catch it, this chapter is a look into our two main characters’ pasts. i hope this helps u understand them more</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. my two best friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy makes a startling realizations with the help of his two best friends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The snow around the residential area began to melt as the sun crested the horizon. Birds chirped their upbeat song, wishing the world a good morning. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo sits on the porch of the heroes’ estate, chewing on a bite of doughnut. “I kind of like it here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Really?” Tommy asks dryly. “Great.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, Philza, er, <em>Phil</em> is super nice and I don’t have to worry about starving. ‘Sall I could really ask for.” Ranboo responds with a shrug of his shoulders. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What’s on your mind, big man?” Tubbo cocks his head to the side, a sideways glance aimed at Tommy. “You’ve been super off ever since you went off to find Dream last month.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine,” Tommy replies shortly. “Really,” he adds once he receives skeptical looks from his friends.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t think I believe you,” Ranboo leans forward. “By the power vested in me via being your friend, I must know what’s wrong and how to help.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Tubbo chimes in, crossing his arms. “and we won’t take no for an answer.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s right, Tubbo. We will stay here however long we have to until we get an answer.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy snorts, raising an eyebrow. “Did you two rehearse this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The two shoot slight grins at each other. “Why does it matter?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, it doesn’t, really.” Tommy shrugs.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, so tell us.” Ranboo insists, scooting along the wooden planks of the porch to get closer to Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sighs. “I’m just a little worried, is all.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s all? The amount of swear words in your vernacular has doubled. I don’t think that’s caused by a little anxiety.” Ranboo rests his head on his shoulder, supporting himself with his right arm. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You caught me,” Tommy surrenders with an unenthusiastic gesture. “I’m doing really fuckin’ shitty at the moment, boys.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo nods. “Yeah, we knew that part. We wanna know why. Give us details.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy scoffs. “Jesus, Tubbo, where are your manners?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Buried along with my parents.” Tubbo chirps, not missing a beat. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shudders. “Point made.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So?” Ranboo presses, peering at Tommy through his multicolored lenses.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know how to feel about Phil.” Tommy murmurs.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, what was that?” Tubbo leans forward, spitting bits of doughnut as he spoke.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>said</em>,” Tommy takes a deep breath, followed by a shaky exhale. “I don’t trust Phil. Being here makes me feel all wound-up.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo glances at Tubbo, then nods. “Understandable.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why don’t you trust him? Didn’t he save your life, Tommy?” Tubbo asks after he swallows the last of his doughnut. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“He didn’t save my life—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Not this again.” Ranboo rolls his eyes, his words oozing with frustration. “He did save your life, Tommy. He saved mine and Tubbo’s, too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“The hell do you mean?” Tommy barks, voice rising.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Dude, chill for a minute. Hear me out. Even if Dream didn’t kill you right then and there, who knows what he would have done if he got you where he wanted you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Never let a kidnapper get you to a second location.” Tubbo chimes in seriously. “I learned that from Oprah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy raises an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo stares at Tubbo over the rims of his glasses. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Tubbo, very cool. Anyway, Dream’s super dangerous. It’s highly probable that he would have killed you, or you would never see us again if he got his hands on you. Also, even if Dream was less of a threat, Phil still got seriously roughed up on your behalf. That should be proof enough that you can trust him.” Ranboo removes his sunglasses and cleans them on his shirt as he speaks. He puts them back on as a finalizing gesture.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy has to say, he did not expect this from Philza hater #1 of the friend group. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I didn’t ask him to do that. There was no reason for him to do to that other than to stroke his own ego.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo groans. “Tommy, have you ever heard of the concept of Occam's razor? It states that the simplest solution is often the closest to the truth. Which do you think is more likely, Phil protecting you as some sort of publicity stunt that didn’t even get on the news, or because he cares about you and doesn’t want to see you get hurt?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy contorts his face in thought. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I know you’re weary of trusting people, but you trust us, right?” Ranboo asks, grabbing Tommy’s hands. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart skips a beat. People don’t ever touch him unless they’re beating the shit out of him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He smiles softly. Ranboo’s such a good friend.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, of course I do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Then trust Phil, please.” Ranboo implores, locking his eyes on Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy averts his gaze, opting to stare at the ground instead.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo leans forward and wraps his arms around Tommy. Ranboo joins him soon after.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can’t remember the last time someone cared about him enough to show physical affection. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wait.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy recalls all the times that Phil has offered him a gentle pat on the back or tousled his hair. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Shit</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Aw, <em>fuck</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh, god damn it.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You seem to have realized something.” Ranboo has pulled back from the hug, a knowing smile on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, Ranboo, I have.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It all makes sense now. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh my god, Tommy’s so fucking stupid. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I just want you to know that you don’t have to trust him, but you don’t have to distrust him either.” Ranboo leans back on his elbows. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“He bought me honey buns!” Tubbo chirps helpfully.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“He gave me Oreos and a whole lot of wisdom.” Ranboo places a hand behind his head, shifting his position as to not fall over. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He presses a hand to his forehead. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He has so much to think about now. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Thanks, Ranboo, Tubbo. You’re the best.</span> </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>okay here it is. here is the crest of tommy’s inner conflict. what will he do now, I wonder</p><p>GIVE ME UR COMMENTS I REQUIRE SUSTENANCE</p><p>aka feedback</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. golden turmoil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dream hasn’t given up yet. He might be the only one who can find out Tommy’s true power.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Three figures stand in a dimly lit tavern. The only source of illumination is a single oil lamp flickering in the middle of the ceiling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A brunette, dressed in a blue sweater with a mushroom crocheted on it, and dark ripped jeans sits at the bar, holding a kettle steadily over a mug. White-rimmed goggles sat atop his coiffed hair. Red and white freckles dotted his features. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A tall man with wild blonde hair stands in the middle of the room, sporting a worn sage hoodie with the sleeves ripped off over</span>
  <span class="s2">top a skintight black turtleneck. A black belt hung loosely around his waist adorned with a plethora of different weapons. A cracked white mask with an eerie cartoonish smile carved into it hides his identity. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Another man possesses disobedient raven hair, overflowing past the white bandana wrapped around his forehead and curling around his ears. He wears a black turtleneck similar to the taller man, only differentiated by the white t-shirt draped over it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">George groans as he pours another cup of tea. “We’ve had to bail you out twice and you still don’t have the kid. Why is he so important?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream holds an empty shot glass up to the dim lamp overhead, studying it. “Patience, George. There’s a method to my madness.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Okay, so can you tell us?” Sapnap reaches across the bar to punch Dream lightly on the shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream sighs, setting the glass on the bar. He gets up from the stool and walks over to the other side of the tavern. He takes a small hourglass out of a drawer, flipping it over and watching the golden substance drain out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“It’s too risky. One of the heroes can draw confessions from anyone. We can’t have anyone compromising our plan.” Dream pulls his mask off his head, shaking out his messy golden-blonde hair. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Sapnap and George share a defeated mumble.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“That’s so stupid. I wanna know what’s up.” Sapnap whines, leaning against the bar and batting a shot glass back and forth between his hands. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I promise, the rewards we will reap are guaranteed to be legendary.” Dream assures evenly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">George rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure. Can we at least know why we can’t just use Karl’s powers for this?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream saunters over to George’s seat at the bar and wraps his arms around the brunette. “Tell me, George. If you had a shiny diamond in your pocket and another right in front of you, would you leave without taking the other?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">George grumbles. “I don’t get it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy,” Dream presses with a malicious smile. “Is the final piece of the puzzle.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“What the hell does that mean?” Sapnap groans, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Karl can offer us the upper hand in planning, he can make sure our timing is perfect. Tommy can assure us victory in combat.” Dream continues as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“That scrawny little kid can’t fight at all, Dream! What are you on about?” George stands, throwing Dream’s arms off of him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream raises his hands lazily. “No, we’re the offense. He’s the defense.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Huh?” Sapnap asks as he brushes an unruly lock of hair out of his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I have reason to believe that Tommy is immune to all offensive quirks.” Dream gestures to Sapnap. “You couldn’t use your fire on him, could you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“No,” Sapnap huffs, crossing his arms. “Stupid kid almost got me arrested.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Ah, ah, come on now. Your encounter with Tommy and Punz brought us very valuable information.” Dream punctuates his statement with a sly smirk. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“How so?” George cleans his foggy goggles on his shirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Tommy has biases.” Dream gestures, his arms positioned so his palms face the ceiling.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t follow.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“We already know that Tommy has two friends, but now we have reason to believe that Tommy has befriended some heroes, or, to put it more accurately, the top three strongest heroes have an attachment to Tommy. This gives us a serious advantage.” Dream turns the golden hourglass over in his hand as he speaks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Sapnap nods. “Yeah, he did say he loved Philza or something.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">George presses a fist to his palm. “Oh, yeah! I remember now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“So, if we can control Tommy, we can control three of the strongest threats to our mission.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“You’re so smart, Dream.” Sapnap praises sincerely. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream lets out his signature low chuckle. “Thank you, Sapnap.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“So, we kidnap this kid, figure out how to use him to make ourselves immune to quirks, then we use him as a hostage to manipulate the heroes. Then we use Karl to make sure things go our way.” George grins smugly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Hey,” Sapnap interjects with a nervous glance to Dream. “Can we, maybe, not hurt Karl though? I kinda like him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream nods. “We won’t have to hurt him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Sapnap pumps his fist in the air. “Aw, yeah! I’m on board.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Anyway,” Dream continues. “Due to the research we did on mutant quirks with Karl, it’s possible there is more to Tommy’s immunity to quirks than meets the eye.” Dream holds one of his hands out his side. “On the one hand, it’s possible he could eventually gain full immortality.” Dream moves his other hand off to the side. “On the other, the secret to his offensive power could be unlocked any moment now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Wait,” Sapnap interrupts. “You’re telling me he can get that powerful?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream nods. “The last time I saw Karl, I gained solid proof that he had manifested the ability to time travel. When we first encountered him, he could only see still images of events in the future. His power seems to have grown exponentially. It’s highly probable Tommy’s quirk will have this same pattern of growth. That’s why it’s important we get him on our side now. If he becomes an asset to the heroes, he will become an incredibly hard obstacle to overcome.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Ah, that’s why you kept going after him so much. You even used the special tranquilizer, which I was really confused about, but I guess I understand now.” George taps a finger to his chin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Additionally, we need to get our hands on Tommy once and for all so we can figure out what exactly his ability is. Whether it’s simply a resistance to offensive quirks or something far greater is a valuable subject of intrigue.” Dream meets the others’ eyes, their red and blue hues contrasting his own green tint.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I still think we should get more people other than us three and some kids.” Sapnap adds with a glance to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I have no one I can reasonably trust other than you two.” Dream admits with an even gaze into Sapnap’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Aww, that’s so sweet, thank you Dream!” Sapnap giggles, rocking on his heels.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream smacks Sapnap on the shoulder, his face turning scarlet. “That wasn’t a compliment, you idiot!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“So,” George mumbles with a yawn. “When are we doing this? Not tonight, right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Dream responds with a gentle chuckle. It echoes across the empty room, bouncing off the decaying wood paneling. “Not sure yet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Huh?” Sapnap murmurs, his brows furrowed in confusion. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“There’s only one person who can let us know when it’s time to strike.” Dream fixes his eyes on the hourglass in his hand, watching as the small amount of golden substance left trickles down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Oh,” George mutters knowingly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“All we have to do now,” Dream sets the hourglass on the bar right as the last bit of gold falls to the bottom. “Is wait.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">For a moment, Dream’s dull dusting of freckles gain a telltale golden shine, before flickering out along with the lamp overhead.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Tick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tommy’s quirk is something ive put a lot of thought into, maybe let me know ur theories in the comments? no pressure tho... unless?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. designs for all the boys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is just a drawing i made of every reccuring character in this fic so far (except karl, i’ve already drawn him)</p><p>enjoy, or not.</p><p>also follow my twitter @vibesoda for more poggers art</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This took 7 hours and I did it in one sitting help me</p><p>here’s my twitter post: https://twitter.com/vibesoda/status/1384959424293478406?s=21</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. smile, i’ll change your mind.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy has a strange Dream. Or was it a nightmare?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yooo i say this at the end too, but the thirtieth chapter is coming up, as a reward for all of u sticking around this long, I’ve decided to ask you: what do u want to know about this world/about the characters? If a request is common or intriguing enough, I’ll write it into the thirtieth chapter. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Dreams</em> can become reality with the right amount of determination, and willingness to get your hands dirty.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Do you believe that the ends justify the means, Tommy?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Do you believe that there is a purpose for every misdeed? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Haven’t you been the devil’s advocate before?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You know what got you this far, Tommy?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Do you know why you’re still here?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When you were alone, freezing and hungry, how did you get what you needed? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What could you rely on when you had no one else?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s right; the exact things that heroes punish people for.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Who do heroes think they are, forcing everyone to submit to their infinitesimal worldview? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">I’m of the opinion that a little crime never hurt anyone. After all, you’re only alive because you took what was yours and didn’t look back.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There’s something so freeing about breaking free from those who chain you down, don’t you agree? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tell me, Tommy. Do you wish to be your own man? Do you desire a life that is purely your own?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">I will share a little wisdom with you, because I care about you, Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The only way to make sure your decisions are truly your own is to refuse to take orders from anyone. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Heroes only follow some outdated idea of what’s right; They know nothing of the nuance that this world truly holds. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They enforce their ideals onto others with violence. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">They believe their own <em>Dreams</em> are superior to others’.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They don’t understand you the way I do, Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">These false heroes operate under a system of oppressive laws with no desire to reform them. They’re simply hungry for power and glory. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They crush the struggling men under their boots and continue walking down the red carpet. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Don’t you think that makes them the villains? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">I only want to free you, Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">My only desire is to bring others closer to true anarchy — the complete lack of power. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No societal roles, no hierarchy, no self-righteous cowards telling you what to do. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Every man lives free of his shackles. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Impoverished orphans don’t perish on the street because they lack what everyone else could not dream of losing. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No one has to be told to just grin and bear their treacherous living conditions.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Does that not sound lovely? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Their minds are poisoned, but I have the antidote. I hold the torch that can set the fodder of society ablaze. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">My only wish is to pass this torch on to you.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You are extraordinary. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You hold power that even I cannot estimate. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">You have the power to change the fabric of society — of the universe, even. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The palms of your hands are tougher than any hero; The sharpness of your mind outperforms any blade. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Heroes will only hold you back. They will only limit </span>
  <span class="s1">your power. They will hide your potential from you because they’re afraid of their precious hierarchy crumbling to dust. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wouldn’t it be nice to wipe that egotistical smirk off of their faces? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Force them to face the truths they once ignored. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No one will crumble under the weight of a new support gear factory. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">No one will go hungry because a hero told them they couldn’t take what they deserved. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Doesn’t the simple thought of that make you giddy? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">I know it does. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Take my hand; Help me to understand your true power, and I will give you the world. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">I can make your wildest <em>Dreams</em> come true. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">:) </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bolts upright in bed, clutching the comforter below him in tight fists. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He breathes loudly and unsteadily, feeling as if the air was depleted of oxygen.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The door gently squeaks open, and Tommy feels almost enraged at the sudden presence of light. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, are you okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy whips his head in the direction of the voice. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He glares at the hero in the doorway, suddenly feeling overcome with frustration.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine.” He growls, pulling the covers over his head to block out the infuriating brightness. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Phil says quickly, and shuts the door without a sound. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy grabs fistfuls of his hair, still feeling short of breath. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What is happening to him?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I did not make any capitalization errors. </p><p>(:</p><p>You find yourself stuck in an endless loading zone. You can’t seem to get any inputs through to Tommy. What’s happening? What could be causing this?</p><p>The thirtieth chapter is coming up, as a reward for all of u sticking around this long, I’ve decided to ask you: what do u want to know about this world/about the characters? If a request is common or intriguing enough, I’ll write it into the thirtieth chapter. (:</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. half a dream, half a nightmare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Apollo,” Hafu murmurs breathlessly. “5up’s really hurt. I’m at the location we talked about. Send everyone you can. Please.”</p><p>Hafu can hear Apollo gasp over the static.</p><p>“Right away, Hafu.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Only a sliver of the sun remains on the horizon.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Two heroes walk side-by-side down an empty street. One is dressed in pink, the other in yellow.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up groans. “Why couldn’t they put someone else on this mission? I don’t feel like I’m needed here.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu almost smacks him upside the head. “Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up nods. “As a heart attack, Hafu; as a heart attack.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“They sent us to do this,” Hafu taps a pen to her chin before scribbling something on the clipboard in her hands. “because our quirks are information-based. You can basically force people to give up information and I can analyze it. I kind of thought that was obvious.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You think everything is obvious!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu just grins, clicking her pen a few times.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ladies and gentlemen, enemies of the state, eldritch abominations, and readers alike, meet Hafu.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu is 5up’s big sister, and she ranks #10 on the billboard hero rankings. In other words, she’s kind of a big deal.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Her quirk is called Logician, she can predict and decipher situations even if she has almost no information. She can perfectly follow a problem to its logical solution. When 5up and Hafu used to live together, Hafu would solve all of the technical issues. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">In case you need a refresher, 5up’s quirk is called Charisma. He can speak in a special manner that can force a target to do as he says, or answer a question. He is very good at leading and persuading others. He cannot intentionally misinform people in this voice, however.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Yeah, he knows it’s cool. Get your swooning out now, because we’re about to get a little dirty. Wade into waist-high mud, if you will. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Are you sure they’ll be where the police said they’d be? An old money laundering front seems a little obvious.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So obvious that you will never think to check.” Hafu murmurs, having resumed writing on her clipboard. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You know what, touché.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu snorts, her eyes fixed on her writing. “Why do you sound so tilted about it?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t like you being right all the time.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Then just stop being wrong.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fuck you. </span>
  <span class="s3">
    <em>Go walk off—“</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“5up! You know you’re not allowed to use your quirk for personal purposes.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“This isn’t personal, you are a threat to my well-being.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Quit being a baby, you baby!” Hafu looks up from her clipboard to shoot 5up a glare.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“<em>You</em> quit being mean!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“How am I being mean? Not letting you break the law makes me mean?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up thinks for a moment.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Then he thinks some more.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“<em>Fine</em>,” He huffs finally. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu celebrates her victory with a sassy click of her pen.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s unfair I can’t use my quirk on you but you can use yours on me.” 5up sulks.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I legitimately cannot turn mine off, five.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up frowns at the childhood nickname.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That’s not my problem.” 5up sneers, crossing his arms as he walks.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You’re such a child!” Hafu groans, though there is no evidence of contempt in her voice. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up just looks away from Hafu.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Stupid pink man.” Hafu jeers with a giggle. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up echoes Hafu’s giggle, letting his arms fall to his sides. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up spots the suspicious rotting wooden door he was told about and makes a beeline for it. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up’s stride is suddenly halted by an arm impacting his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Stop!” Hafu hisses. “You can’t just barge in there. Do you even know what you’re going to do once you get in there? What if the villains are in there? What would you do then?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up sighs. “You’re overthinking this. We just need to go in there and get what we need. Go with the flow.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay, so what happens when your flow is interrupted by a knife to your chest?” Hafu whispers frantically. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hafu, that won’t happen. Calm down.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We have to account for every possibility.” Hafu seethes, clicking her pen once more. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up rolls his eyes. “Hafu, have you ever actually done anything in your entire life or have you just spent this whole time thinking about doing things?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu tilts her head in confusion. “What?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We won’t ever get anything done if we waste time worrying about it.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m not worrying, 5up—“</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ah, says the worrier.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No, listen!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up closes his mouth, nodding at Hafu to continue. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We need to make sure we know what we’re doing.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Of course.” 5up replies shortly. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So when we get in there, we need to make sure we stay close to the door. There’s no reason to get close.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up nods.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Also, don’t let their words get to you. Villains lie. If they say anything about your friends or family, whatever, don’t believe them. They’re just trying to get under your skin.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Jesus, Hafu. I’m not a baby.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Then why do you act like one?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay, I’m going in.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Wait—“</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu steps toward 5up to stop him, but the pink man has already unceremoniously knocked down the door and is now being held at gunpoint. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu ducks out of the way of the door and out of sight, her hand pressed to her mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, hey, put the gun down. I’m just here to negotiate.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Negotiate?” Comes a faint voice from inside. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yes.” 5up replies quickly, drawing out the s.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Come in.” the voice replies shortly.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up steps only slightly into the dimly-lit tavern, motioning for Hafu to come forward. Hafu glares, shaking her head. 5up rolls his eyes and leans against the wall. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I know all about your quirk, 5up.” The villain spits. “So don’t even try using it on me.” The villain growls a low chuckle.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">dream</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s2"> of it.” 5up replies cooly. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu immediately understands the hint, taking her phone out to message Apollo and Steve. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Her action is interrupted as 5up lets out a strangled cry; Hafu whips her head toward her brother, sweat beading on her forehead.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">She can’t see 5up from here. She has to get closer. She takes a tentative step closer. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Who’s here with you?” Dream growls, knife to 5up’s throat. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No one.” 5up responds, his eyes giving nothing away as they gaze at the unmasked villain. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You’re lying.” Dream spits, holding the knife closer to the hero’s neck. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 5up rebukes calmly.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Shut up,” The villain grabs 5up by the shirt and throws him into the wall; 5up stumbles against the decaying wood, ready to give way at any moment. “Get out of my sight before I kill you.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ah, but I have valuable information for you. Are you interested in the location of one Karl Jacobs and Quackity?” 5up rubs his bruised shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ah, Karl! I love that guy!” an unfamiliar voice chirps. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sapnap, be quiet!” a third voice scolds. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“George, Sapnap, both of you shut the hell up.” Dream chastises as he throws his mask to the floor, watching it clatter across the withered planks.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu can barely conceal her gasp. 404, Dream, and Sapnap are here. Why would they gather in the same location like this? Especially for an extended period of time. Is it possible they’re going to strike soon? This is a lot worse than Hafu thought. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Why should I believe you, hero?” Dream leans into the hero’s face.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I figured,” 5up laughs in the way he does when he’s up to something. “We could keep this between us. Don’t gotta tell anyone, you know?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Dream smiles. He seems to like that response. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What do you want to know?” Dream’s shoulders relax and he steps away from 5up.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Just a couple things.” 5up says in a bored tone. “One, how much do you know about that kid? Tommy, was it? I heard he has an insanely powerful quirk, and if he can do what I think he can... well,” 5up offers a malicious smirk. “I think I can become number one easily.” 5up glances from side to side before he leans forward and covers the side of his mouth with his hand. “Eliminate the competition, so to speak.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Dream laughs in a more carefree way than before. “I see. Go on.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Also,” 5up studies his nails nonchalantly despite Hafu being able to read his nervousness like a book. “I want to know what you’re planning on doing with the kid. See if we can work toward a common goal, you get me?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Dream crosses his arms with a pleased smirk. “I get you.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That’s pretty much it,” 5up says cooly, running a hand through his hair. Hafu can detect the minimal amount of trembling in her brother’s voice. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu gulps, and her heart beats loudly in her ears. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well, I suppose I can tell you what you need. If you give me the location of both Tommy and Karl first.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu watches as 5up’s face twitches in anxiety, imperceptible to everyone but her.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You drive a hard bargain, but I can accept those terms.” 5up agrees, his body language relaxed despite his nervousness. “Tommy lives in a garage with his two friends, Ranboo and Tubbo. It’s on 29th street. Karl is currently on the run with his friend Quackity. They were last seen leaving the city from the south side. Only the higher-ups know this information, I had to do some... unethical things to get it. </span>
  <span class="s3"><em>I am not lying to you.</em>” </span>
  <span class="s2">5up adds the last part in his charisma voice to prove his honesty.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Dream nods with a satisfied sneer. “Very well. </span>
  <span class="s2">I am sure that Tommy possesses a mutant quirk, it is possible that he could become entirely immortal, or he could build so much offensive power that he would be unstoppable. We can use him to rid the world of the disease that is heroism.” Dream glances at 5up and gestures at him. “Go on, use your little voice to make sure I’m telling the truth.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay.” 5up agrees. “<em>Is the information you gave me accurate?”</em></span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“<em>Yes</em>.” Dream replies immediately, powerless to stop his response.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up takes a step toward the doorway. “Thanks. You’ve been a great hel—“ 5up is cut off by Sapnap seizing hold of 5up’s shirt and forcing him into a tight chokehold.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“5up!” Hafu screams, unable to hold back her terror. She drops her clipboard on the concrete.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Dream growls as he grabs Hafu by the arm, twisting her shoulder unnaturally. He yanks her into the room roughly, throwing her to George, who wrenches her arms behind her back, forcing her wrists together painfully. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu glances at 5up with desperate horror, watching as Dream holds a knife to 5up’s stomach. “Try anything,” he hisses. “and I’ll kill you.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up meets Hafu’s eyes, and Hafu can tell from his expression that he’s planning to do something stupid. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu shoots him a pleading glare, shaking her head subtly. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">She watches as 5up takes a deep breath, and bows his head. “Okay, no problem.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu sighs, relief flooding her senses as 5up doesn’t get himself into trouble like he usually does.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Good.” Dream doesn’t move the knife away from 5up’s stomach as he speaks.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Dread sinks back into Hafu’s stomach as she watches 5up’s expression change at the continued presence of Dream’s blade. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu realizes from this that 5up was bluffing to try to get Dream to pull back and let him go. It didn’t work, and now 5up’s going to do something even more stupid. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu says a silent prayer as she hopes 5up doesn’t die tonight. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Look, Five, I know the information is important but you’re more important. Don’t do this. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">5up closes his eyes for a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Then he utters a string of words that will haunt Hafu for the rest of her life. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s3">“<em>George, let Hafu go</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Dream howls in rage, plunging the knife into 5up’s stomach. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">George does as he’s told, releasing Hafu and allowing her to stumble forward. He stands still, his eyes wide in shock.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“5up!” She screams until her throat is raw, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sapnap stands next to Dream, his eyes as large as saucers.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Go.” 5up coughs, blood pooling at the corner of his mouth. “Go, Hafu!” He yells when Hafu doesn’t move.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu wrenches her eyes off of her injured brother, taking off into the moonlight. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Tears streamed down her face, yet she knows she made the right decision.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It was the logical thing to do; staying with 5up could get her killed as well. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">So why does it hurt so much? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Surely they wouldn’t kill 5up. Backup will arrive in time. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Won’t it? </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu ducks into an alley, unable to wait any longer to call her agency. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hello?” Apollo’s voice crackles over the receiver. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Apollo,” Hafu murmurs breathlessly. “5up’s really hurt. I’m at the location we talked about. Send everyone you can. Please.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hafu can hear Apollo gasp over the static.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Right away, Hafu.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>YOOO this is for you person who wanted to see hafu </p><p>had to make it angsty tho sorry</p><p>edit: this is for you, allthemetalsoftherainbow</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. what really matters is you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is it. The crossover, climatic, plot-developing beast of a chapter you’ve all been waiting for.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s always been a light sleeper.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He isn’t sure if he ever told you this. It’s been a month and thirty chapters, so pardon him if his memory is a little spotty.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Digressing, Tommy has always slept with one eye open. It’s a survival instinct. Remember the whole homeless thing? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">So, when Tommy awoke to hushed whispers outside his door, he couldn’t help but peek into the hallway and asses the situation. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wilbur,” A harsh whisper becomes decipherable. “Be quiet, you’re going to wake people up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, excuse me for trying to get out of here as soon as possible.” Wilbur shoots back as Tommy hears boots trot down the stairs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy scrambles to pull on his shoes, preparing to follow Wilbur.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy makes it to the base of the stairs before he runs into Phil.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” He startles, clearly stressed. “What are you doing awake?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You guys were moving furniture or something, I had to see what was causing all the ruckus.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil rolls his eyes and shakes his wings out as he strides to the open door, the chilly night wind tousling his hair as he stepped outside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy chases him hastily. “Where are you three going?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, go back inside.” Techno says in a serious tone, which makes Tommy want to</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">go inside less.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Where are you going?” Tommy repeats. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur sighs. “Go back inside or I’ll throw you in there myself.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Come on,” Tommy presses, stomping his foot on the stoop. “Tell me. Can I come?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Phil’s eyes shot daggers at Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Good thing Tommy’s not afraid of a little knife wound. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy crosses his arms. “I’m coming with you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil groans in frustration, and Tommy flinches. “Tommy, this is dangerous. Go back inside. That’s an order.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy is about to do what’s called a Pro Gamer Move™.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Tommy says with a sigh, to make it believable. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, kid.” Phil smiles at him, and reaches out to tousle his hair. Tommy jerks back instinctively, and awkwardly meets Phil’s gaze before shuffling back inside and closing the door behind him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy watches from the great window as the trio of heroes disappear down the street. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy takes note of what direction they went and promptly races to the other side of the house and out the back door.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The frigid temperature of the night chilled Tommy’s skin and stung his eyes. He breathed in the fresh air with a deep sigh and then started booking it down the road after the heroes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He has to lighten his footfalls to make sure he doesn’t alert the heroes of his presence, so he chooses to cut across people’s lawns. The grass was slick with dew, brushing against his ankles uncomfortably.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy ducks behind a mailbox and peers into the street before him. Techno and Wilbur are running, Phil is nowhere in sight; he must have flown. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur and Techno are fast, and for a second Tommy thinks he might lose track of them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s silly, though. Tommy doesn’t spend almost a decade running from the police without gaining a few tricks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy cuts across the street and waits at the intersection to see which way the heroes will go. When they come close, he jumps behind and bush and holds his breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sure, the bush probably wasn’t necessary, but it made Tommy feel cool; Morale is everything these days.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy catches part of their conversation as he trails them after they make a turn. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t wear yourself out, Wilbur. Phil’s probably already there. It’ll be okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up, Techno. 5up could be dying as we speak.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Unbeknownst to Tommy, Techno rolls his eyes. “It’s just basic strategy. You don’t want to arrive with half your strength.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not losing strength by running, Techno!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not getting it, are you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up.” Wilbur repeats, and Techno listens. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Oh, shit. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Is 5up hurt? How could 5up be seriously injured to the point where he might die? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They’re on the main road now, and Tommy follows the two heroes down a shady back road, the pavement now degenerated to gravel. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The heroes turn down yet another side street, and Tommy holds his breath. This does not bode well. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy has buckets — no, olympic-sized swimming pools — of courage, so it’s no biggie, of course. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He pushes down the tiny voice inside him that wishes Phil were there with him, and continues his pursuit.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can hear faint shouting now, and he speeds up his pace along with the heroes in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur and Techno stop in front of a small opening in a boarded-up old tavern. The opening exhibits a dim glow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy hides behind a nearby building and listens. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Heroes. Get out of here or I’ll kill you too.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s stomach lurches. Dream is the one who injured 5up? Is 5up already dead? Were the heroes too late?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out a small, shaky, whimper as he hears an ear-splitting crash.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wilbur!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh, shit. That’s Phil’s voice.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shit, I didn’t account for the spore guy to be here. Dumbdog only mentioned Dream.” Techno sounds worried. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Not poggers</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Maybe Tommy shouldn’t have followed the heroes here. He might end up being another helpless person that gets in the way.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s what he’s always been: a liability. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy grits his teeth and pokes his head out from behind the wall.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur’s got those awful spores on him again. He’s crumpled into a pile of decaying wood crates. He’s not moving. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy presses a hand to his mouth, his trembling hands shaking his head slightly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur looks horrendous. He’s got these red splotches all over his body, along with sharp spores dug harshly into his skin.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno’s holding... Sapnap at crossbow-point.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wait, Sapnap?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh, <em>god damn it.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy holds back a scream as Dream unsheathes one of his blades and aims an attack at Techno. Techno pivots out of the way and turns to aim his crossbow at Dream instead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The second Techno’s distracted, Sapnap holds his hand out at 5up, staring at Phil intently. A dark expression hangs on his face. “Don’t move.” He orders sharply. “Or I’ll burn him until his corpse is unrecognizable.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil seems frozen, he’s facing away from Tommy so Tommy can’t make out his expression. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno aims a crossbow shot at Dream, and fires. Dream cackles at this, and dodges the bolt multiple times, his laughter growing as the bolt corrects its trajectory each time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno stands, confused, until Dream moves in front of Phil, and the crossbow bolt corrects its trajectory once again, except it doesn’t account for Phil being in the middle of its intended route to its target.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil, move!” Techno shouts, his voice gruff and rushed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil doesn’t want to risk 5up’s life, so he can’t move. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno and Tommy wince as the crossbow bolt plunges into Phil’s shoulder blade.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream lets out a wild cackle, his voice wheezing as he laughs. <em>“Yes!”</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil hisses in pain, but he doesn’t topple over. He flaps his wings for a moment to sustain his balance, and then he starts for Dream, but George beats him to the punch, sneaking up behind him and wrenching his wing to the ground with a sickening crunch. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s knees buckle and he crumples to the ground, scrambling to get up under George’s grasp. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap has taken to fighting Techno, Tommy is unable to make out either figure through the thick vortex of fire. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil howls in agony as George takes hold of Phil’s other wing and bends it unnaturally. Dream’s cackling grows louder as the snapping of bone is heard. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Dream look! The poor bird is flightless now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil gives up on attempting to stand, and instead falls to his knees, his horribly disfigured wings twitching from the pain.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno growls in rage and jams his elbow into George’s eye socket. Techno grabs the spore villain by the hem of his shirt, throws him as far down the road as he can, and dodges an attack from Dream. George gets to his feet, but just barely. His eye is swelling fast, and a myriad of scrapes adorned his face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy finally gets a good look at Techno, and he almost pukes at the sight of countless gruesome burns scattered across the hero’s body. His cape was singed and battered, the entire block reeked with the scent of burnt hair.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart begins to do somersaults as he watches Sapnap turn toward Phil’s pitiful form. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Oh, don’t you fucking dare</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy knows he needs to get out of here. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He needs to leave before he goes down with them. What would he be able to do against a lunatic with far too many knives and a crazed pyromaniac?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Nothing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Yet, Tommy can’t bring himself to run away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A certain person’s words filter back into Tommy’s psyche from his memory.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>
      <span class="s1">“One day you’ll be faced to choose between yourself, and someone you love; A choice so difficult to the outside eye that it may be considered impossible to choose. Except, in this moment, you’ll find the choice so easy to make that you barely have to think.”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In the blink of an eye, Tommy appears between Phil and Sapnap, crossing his arms in front of him. He didn’t even feel his legs move. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A gentle warmth licks Tommy’s skin, then dissipates.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy?” Sapnap, Dream, Phil, and Techno all cry in different states of panic. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hi,” Tommy says with a bashful smile. “I followed you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, get the fuck out of here! It’s dangerous.” Phil’s voice is hoarse and pleading.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I know that, dickhead. That’s why i’m here, between you and the danger.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil stares at Tommy with watery, wide eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>If I can still stand at all, then I’ll stand between you and danger. I’ll protect you no matter what it takes.</em> Isn’t that what you said, big man?” Tommy asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil stares at Tommy in a mixture of terror and sorrow.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Tommy laughs, if only dryly. “It’s my turn to repay the favor.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So, you’ve chosen your allegiance, huh?” Dream taunts, sauntering up to Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hell yeah I did.” Tommy spits.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Dream says with a resigned sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to respect that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy falters. “Huh? It’s that easy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream’s fingers twitch around the handle of his machete. “I’m disappointed, but...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart and ankles swap places as Tommy narrowly avoids a knife to the face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“If I can’t have you, no one can!” Dream howls, cackling wildly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">For a moment, Tommy’s mind wanders to Wilbur before snapping back to attention just in time to dodge another knife to the throat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not some made-up country in a minecraft roleplay, Dream. I’m a person. You can’t just claim me.” Tommy jokes as another swipe of a blade grazes his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I will kill all of you,” Dream chuckles darkly, moving his mask out of the way to reveal his wild hair and crazed expression. “I will kill you, and every last one of those fake heroes, mark my words!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you talking like a cartoon villain? Kinda weirdchamp if you ask me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up, you obnoxious little brat.” Dream growls as he holds his knife over his head, poised to attack Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy ducks out of the way and laughs, his voice trembling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s attention is diverted to George as he hears a clattering noise moving across the ground. Tommy watches as George picks up one of Dream’s blades off of the gravel and wraps his hands around the handle.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy is about to speak, but he’s cut off by George holding the knife above Phil’s shivering body and shouting.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, kid! Over here!” George looks terrifying in the dim lighting, his face bruised and bleeding. “Just do as I say, and I won’t kill him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bares his teeth with so much force that they threaten to crack under the pressure. “<em>Get away from him</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Just follow my directions and I will.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, like Hell I’d ever listen to you!” Tommy roars, his voice rough with strain and shaking with pure rage. “Shut the fuck up, the both of you!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gestures an offensive hand at George, howling in fury. His eyes are so crinkled from anger that he can barely see a swirling whirlwind of flames consume his vision, heating his skin and flooding his retinas with blinding light.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy jerks his head toward Sapnap, but Sapnap is standing stock-still next to Techno, who is on the ground, facing away from Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This only makes him more furious, and he jerks his head back to George, who—</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">George is <em>fucking unconscious</em>, burns dotted his body from head to toe. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy turns back to Sapnap, his eyes wide. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Dude.” Sapnap murmurs. “Did you just steal my flames?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy falters. “Huh? I did that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream throws his hands in the air, wheezing laughs escaping his lungs. “I knew you held </span>
  <span class="s1">immense untapped power! You’re absolutely divine! I’m truly amazed! For your quirk to evolve like that, I’ve never seen anything like it!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up, you fucking nutcase, holy shit.” Tommy breathes, his chest heaving.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s head jerks in the direction of incoming sirens, and his heart soars. He chuckles with relief, letting his head fall to his chest as he catches his breath.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Red and blue light flickers along the old brick walls, accompanied by a flood of illumination from various sets of headlights.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Freeze! Hands where I can see them!” Comes the voice of an officer, and Tommy holds his hands up, unable to hold back a smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy!” Fundy runs up to Tommy from behind a large ambulance. Fundy then spots the rest of the heroes and he rushes straight to 5up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Fundy,” 5up croaks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“5up, oh my god 5up.” Fundy’s words spill out of his mouth faster than he can speak. “You’re alive. I’m so happy.” Tears fill the fox man’s eyes as he helps 5up to his feet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Wound’s not that deep, I wouldn’t have died.” 5up murmurs, his eyes half-lidded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shh, save your strength.” Fundy shushes him, and 5up chuckles softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” The persuasive hero replies with a slight smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Fundy helps 5up into an ambulance, and steps back as paramedics rush to tend to the injured man.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy spots the canine hero, Dumbdog, along with the supportive hero, Suptic and the hearty hero, Dakotaz.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s number six, seven, and eight right there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The three heroes help the other three injured heroes into ambulances, and the intelligent hero, Hafu, strides up to Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Where ar—“ Tommy is cut off by Hafu pointing at a nearby ambulance, where Tommy spots a few feathers peeking out from behind a crowd of paramedics.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks.” Tommy thanks her. He’s quite thankful.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Where is—“ Hafu starts. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy just offers a half smile and points to the ambulance that Fundy is standing next to. As Tommy walks over to Phil, Wil, and Techno, he passes Dakotaz, Suptic, and Dumbdog, who join Fundy and Hafu in speaking to 5up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stands idly behind a few paramedics for a moment before Hafu rushed back to Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You saved his life!” Hafu shouts with wide eyes. “Oh my god, I didn’t even realize. You protected those three pros too? You’re really something! I can’t thank you enough.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Huh. I guess I did. Thanks, lady.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Hafu snorts and goes back to see 5up again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A paramedic taps Tommy on the shoulder. “You injured too, kid?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Tommy answers. “Um, but, that’s my dad and my brothers.” He adds quickly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The paramedic nods. “You can stay with them. Climb on up there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gingerly makes his way into the back of the ambulance, and the paramedic smiles at him before closing the doors. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels the vehicle jostle him as it begins to drive, the siren muffled through the walls. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He stares at Wilbur. Then he stares at Techno. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Finally, he looks at Phil. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>
      <span class="s1">Phil looks at Tommy for a moment. “You may not understand now, but one day you’ll be faced to choose between yourself, and someone you love; A choice so difficult to the outside eye that it may be considered impossible to choose. Except, in this moment, you’ll find the choice so easy to make that you barely have to think. To you, there is only one right answer. Maybe then you’ll understand what it means to love someone.”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Huh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Is it possible?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Does Tommy love Phil? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He holds his head in his hands. This is all too much for him to process. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He thinks someone else should narrate for now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So, what should we get for dinner?” Steve asks, breaking the tense silence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Hafu snorts, but offers no reply. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Apollo shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We should get fried chicken.” DK offers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for your input, DK.” Steve says shortly. “Anyone else?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Apollo’s signature high-pitched bark of a laugh escapes his lungs at Steve’s remark. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up, Steve, good god. I’m just giving my input.” DK sulks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, and I don’t care. Next question.” Steve fires back without missing a beat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s so rude, Steve. Did anyone ever tell you that you were rude?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I have been told, yes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I agree.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Apollo cackles loudly in the background as Steve and DK bicker like a married couple again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Hafu shakes her head with a smile. <em>That’s her crew. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">George groans in the familiar way Dream’s come to know. “What are we going to do now, Dream? How do you suppose we get out of jail this time?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream just gazes out of the barred window of the police van. “Oh, don’t you worry. This is all going according to plan.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i think this is the longest one i’ve ever written.</p>
<p>PLEASE leave a comment with what you think. feedback is appreciated and encouraged. don’t be shy !!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. burning rage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy meets someone new, and they really piss him off.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pushed the door marked “roof,” and grunted with effort as it didn’t budge. He stepped back for a moment and noticed the handle and the sign that read “pull.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy looked from left to right to see if anyone saw that, and sighed when the coast was clear.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The still, yet thick midnight air filled Tommy’s lungs as he tried to calm his nerves. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy walks to the railing of the roof and rests his arms on it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t want to look at any of the heroes right now. He looked down at his arms, and— wait a minute, wasn’t he wearing his hoodie? Why was he so cold?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He yelped in a very masculine fashion when he noticed his favorite hoodie, basically torn to shreds at the sleeves. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’ll admit it: he kinda feels like crying right now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Fuck it, nobody’s here. Why not?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s upper body shakes minutely as he presses his hands to the corner of his eyes, collecting the tears and wiping them away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He sniffs, feeling some tears slip through and sting the scratches on his face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He runs his hands through his hair, feeling the tangled mop under his fingertips. He really needs a hairbrush right now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The subtle evening breeze jostles his hair gently, some hairs sticking to his face due to the dampness of his skin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A shaky sigh escapes Tommy’s lungs, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, only to feel something bunched up in there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Huh? What could he have possibly put in his pocket that feels so soft?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He draws the object from his hoodie, and his eyes widen.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh, shit! Tommy forgot about the wristbands he definitely did not steal from Phil. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Hey, they’re cool, okay? Don’t try to tell him they’re not. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gazes at them, a soft smile displayed on his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He slips them onto his wrists and instantly feels much cooler — and better. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil just cheers him up, honestly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to say that part. Ignore that last line.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I was watching your fight.” A voice calls from behind Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out another manly squeal and spins around, his heart racing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Bad.” Tommy says with a whole lot of poorly concealed contempt.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">BadBoyHalo — Not a villian, but not a law-abiding citizen either. The best way Tommy can really put it is a vigilante, but for villains. From what Tommy has seen, Bad controls this sort of, familiar that looks like Cerberus the three-headed dog, but one of those tiny white fluffy dogs. You know the kind. He calls it Rat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Rat doesn’t behave like a normal dog; she’s sort of like a spirit, not exactly tangible but she can be.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck do you want?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Language!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re basically a villain. Why do you care about swear words?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad huffs, crossing his arms. He kicks off from the wall he’s leaning on and approaches Tommy. “That’s not important right now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, just dodge my question, then.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad makes a weird face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You having a stroke or something?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Bad says, desperately trying to hold back his frustration.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shrugs. “Okay, if you say so. I’m just gonna get out of here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy starts toward the door, but Bad summons Rat and she bites at his ankle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ow! Little prick!” Tommy tries to punt Rat, but his foot phases through her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad rolls his eyes. “I came to ask you some things.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t take questions. Now I really must be going, me mum wants me home for suppe—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy. Quit playing games with me.” Bad interrupts in a tone that makes Tommy stop mid-sentence.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy senses danger coming from this guy, so he decides to humor Bad.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, ask your damn questions. Hurry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad huffs once more, though it’s really more of an exasperated sigh. “I saw your fight with the Dream Team. You took them down pretty quickly, and they could best even the likes of the top three heroes. I knew Dream thought you were powerful, but that’s impressive.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth behind closed lips. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So,” Bad points a finger at Tommy and Rat hops on his shoulder. “Either Philza and the other two are weaklings, or a pipsqueak like you holds great power. I’m interested in both options.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What is with all of you people and talking like cartoon villains?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Seriously, according to Tommy, I write his dialogue well, and that’s it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why did I have to write that? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Whatever. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy growls. “Number one, Philza Minecraft is not weak! He’s super strong and powerful and defeated Dream once before. He was just outmatched when he had to look after an injured hero and make sure Techno didn’t get hurt badly. It’s a tough job, and he did exactly what he needed to.” Tommy shifts his weight, placing a hand on his hip. “Besides, I didn’t see you rushing to help.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“An extra variable would skew the results of my experiment.” Bad replies simply.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“In English, please?” Tommy scowls.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad frowns. “I wanted to watch how things played out between you and the Dream Team, if I jumped in, I couldn’t watch what you’d do.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy slams a palm into his face with a slap that echoes across the vacant rooftop. “So, you were just going to sit from your little vantage point and watch people die?” Tommy murmurs in a low voice, his words dripping with venom.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Are you insinuating that you’re too weak to handle them by yourself?” Bad counters, leaning forward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy snarls, and shoves Bad so he stumbles backward. “Shut up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Have I struck a nerve?” Bad raises an eyebrow, challenging Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t just insult Philza Minecraft and get away with it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So, you care about him? Tch. Heroes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, I—“ Tommy stutters. “I don’t— It’s not like that.” he stammers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A smirk spreads across Bad’s face. “Aww, are you afraid of him finding out you’ve gone soft?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shut the fuck up, you satanist-looking bastard! I’d kill you if I weren’t so merciful!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad scoffs. “You couldn’t kill me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Could so.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Prove it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m a merciful hero, so I won’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I get it.” Bad sneers. “You want to be just like your idol, Philza, don’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No! That’s not true, bitch! You’re spouting lies, you’re a fucking madman!” Tommy’s face reddens, though imperceptible in the dark.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So why are you wearing his wristbands?” Bad leans forward, batting his eyelashes innocently.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I—“ Tommy stammers. “I don’t need to answer to you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, so I was right!” Bad giggles, and Rat gives Tommy a funny look too.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Tommy growls, his voice low and furious. “No, you’re so far from the truth it’s unbelievable how stupid you are!” Tommy can feel his hands and legs shaking with rage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why so defensive?” Bad asks. “Is it because you know I’m right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Yes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Tommy balls his hands into fists, desperately wishing for this guy to just shut the fuck up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s okay, just tell him how you feel, I’m sure he’d be happy to know you like him after all.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re so stupid!” Tommy roars. “Don’t you fucking get it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s body starts to heat up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t—“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The hairs on Tommy’s arms stand up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Like—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can almost physically feel the rage bubble over, and he feels something snap inside him, screaming the last word with all of his strength. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Heroes!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A dazzling red light flickers on and off, taking turns illuminating Bad’s face in a deep scarlet glow.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy notices tiny pinpricks of static shock encompassing his entire body. He looks up at the sky. There’s not a cloud in the sky; how could there be lightning now?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad opens his eyes, adjusting to the bright light. He smiles with sick glee. “I knew it was connected with anger somehow.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">  </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>short chapter to show off some concept art i made.</p>
<p>yes now Tommy has main character powers. clap it out for him in the comments</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. i still can’t decide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy still can’t seem to make his mind up. </p><p>Everything is too overwhelming. </p><p>He just wants some time to think.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw for suicide, child abuse, and death(?) (kind of?)</p><p>stay safe fellas</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, this is better than anything I could have imagined!” Bad clapped his gloved hands together with a beaming smile. “This is great. This is awesome!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy was pissed off. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">More importantly, however, he was fucking exhausted.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The red sparks surrounding his body fizzled out into the night air, and the wind chilled his skin back to its agonizingly cold state.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy relaxed his muscles to the best of his ability and shifted his stance so he was looking down at Bad once more.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We’re done here.” Tommy bristled with a subdued yawn. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy studied the other’s face, which scrunched up in thought. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, not just yet.” Bad says, as if he has control over Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“In your dreams, dickhead. Get lost.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad growled, which nearly scared Tommy out of his skin.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy tensed up, trying desperately to conceal his nervousness. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The demon phases through the door to the roof, and a soft click is heard from the other side. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gulps, his stomach dropping to the ground floor. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad appears in front of Tommy once more, sporting a smug grin. “Now you can’t get out of here without me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck,” Tommy whispers disdainfully. “You’re insane.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad shakes his head, then taps a long finger against his temple. “Nope, just an expert strategist.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy crosses his arms with an exasperated huff, his patience thinning by the second. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Bad,” Tommy threatens with a dark glare. “Unlock that door. Now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Bad doesn’t falter, he reaches for the dog on his shoulder and scratches under her collar. “Or what?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy hates not being taken seriously.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can feel the tension in his nerves threaten to snap, and he struggles to contain his rising temper.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” Tommy barks, a startling amount of toxin entwined in his tone.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Heroes don’t do that, do they Tommy?” Bad speaks like a kindergarten teacher scolding a child for trying to eat glue.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy growls, falling for Bad’s bait hook, line, and sinker.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The dormant volcano in Tommy’s chest erupts with hot magma, the cool atmosphere doing nothing to nullify the scorching heat.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Before Tommy can even register his own movement, he’s standing with his beat-up sneaker pressed harshly into the demon man’s chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scarlet hues quite literally cloud his vision, the only thoughts given any regard scream to release Tommy’s fury. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy slowly lifts his foot from Bad’s chest, glaring daggers at the man below him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy turns with a huff, takes the deepest breath he can manage, and leaps off the roof. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The ground rapidly approaches Tommy, and Tommy shuts his eyes as his heels make contact with pavement.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels the concrete turn to rubble under his feet, and his legs recoil harshly, absorbing the impact and wobbling similar to a marksman’s arm after firing a shot with no arrow.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Even so, he’s alive. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He just jumped off the fucking roof and he’s alive. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Not only is he alive, but he doesn’t have a single scratch on him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This changes everything.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s not sure how to feel about this. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It’s overwhelming more than anything else, really. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy watches the same bolts of red that swirled around his body earlier flicker in and out of existence around his arms and legs. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What the </span>
  <span class="s2">fuck</span>
  <span class="s1"> was that?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Since when can he do </span>
  <span class="s2">that</span>
  <span class="s1">?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Since fucking when?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy is so unbearably confused, yet he still cracks a small smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He can fend for himself now. Perfect.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Correction: he can fend for himself, Tubbo and Ranboo.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nearly squeals. He felt so fucking vulnerable living with those heroes, he’s absolutely ecstatic at the idea of leaving those pricks in the dust. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He would much rather go back to the tough familiar than the easy unfamiliar.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s too scared. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s eyes trace over to the wristbands clinging to his arms, and he bites his lip. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He slides them off his wrists and draws his arm back to throw them on the torn-up ground, but he can’t let go. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He huffs with a dusting of pink growing on his cheeks, and reluctantly stuffs the stupid things in his hoodie pocket and enters the hospital once more. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He climbs the stairs as his breathing steadies, and autopilots into the room that Philza and the other two heroes were in. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy slumps into a chair with a deep sigh. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He is so fucking tired. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">So much has happened today. He just wants to rest. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Good thing he’s used to sleeping in unconventional places. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pulls his knees to his chest and drapes his hoodie over them. He rests his head against the cushioned part of the chair and slowly drifts off to sleep.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“Tommy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“Tommy, can you hear me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“Are you okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“Please, wake up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Tommy’s opens his eyes just barely, as far as he can get them to go. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Why does his whole body hurt? </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">He groans quietly, closing his eyes once more in an effort to ignore the pain.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“Tommy,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Wait.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“Sam?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“Yes, that’s me. Do you remember me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Tommy tries to nod, but a bolt of sharp pain tears through his head and he whimpers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">He hates this. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">He hates being vulnerable. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Especially in front of a hero.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">He wished that his stupid mom would just kill him already. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">She loves hurting him so bad, why not just finish the job?</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">She’d be doing them both a favor.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“Listen, it’s okay. You don’t have to deal with anything anymore. It’s all going to be okay.” Sam murmurs; his voice sounds further away now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Yeah, right. </span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Tommy will believe that when it actually happens.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Which will be never.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Not this bullshit.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy has a sick sense of deja vu right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What happened this time? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Did he piss another foster parent off? Or perhaps a social worker?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ugh.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy jolts awake, instantly whipping his head from side to side in an effort to survey the damage.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His heart beats his his ears, and his eyes are wide with fear as he searches for danger.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Huh? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There was no damage. Or danger.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, mate!” Phil places a bandaged hand behind his head with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bites back a scowl, standing from his uncomfortable makeshift bed in the form of a plastic hospital chair. He runs his fingers through his hair — which turned a light shade of brown from the dirt — in an effort to calm his nerves. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever.” Tommy brushes the hero off. He chooses not to ask about Phil’s health, despite how much he wanted to know.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy opens the door to the room, and steps out into the hallway.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil grabs his arm. “Wait—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Every muscle in Tommy’s body stiffens, and in an instant, he’s in survival mode. He smacks Phil’s hand away rather harshly, making the hero wince slightly. Tommy presses his back to the wall on the other side of the hallway, his eyes wide and frantic. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s eyes soften. “Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to scare you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Augh, it would be so much easier if Phil just brushed Tommy off like everyone else.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy doesn’t say anything, he just stares at the winged hero, frozen like a deer in headlights.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Jesus, mate. What shook you up this badly and how do I kill it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy presses his lips together, watching Phil’s hands intently.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Unbeknownst to Tommy, Phil’s eyes teem with guilt and his face falls. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>What</em>?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I guess you went through a lot last night.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?” Tommy asks, now properly confused.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You... fought against three villains, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t fight,” Tommy counters with a huff, desperate to hand the credit off to someone else. “I just protected you, is all.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil cocks his head to the side.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Heh. Stupid bird man.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, thank you.” Phil coos with a soft smile, the type that Tommy absolutely despised. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil takes a step toward Tommy and he flinches away from the hero, anxiety welling up in his chest once more. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Relax, kid. I’m not going to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Despite his better judgment, Tommy still can’t bring himself to believe that. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Okay, maybe Phil does care about Tommy, and maybe even Tommy’s friends too, but that doesn’t give Tommy any more reason to trust him. Tommy still doesn’t know all of Phil’s intentions. He could be only interested in Tommy’s out of the ordinary quirk, just like Dream, and Bad, and literally fucking everyone else.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stays on edge.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“By the way,” Phil mumbles as he bumps a bandaged wing against a trash can and winces. “Um, the nurse who came in to use her healing quirk said that you weren’t there when she came in. Where were you, if you don’t mind me asking?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I do mind.” Tommy spits, crossing his arms over his chest. “So I’m not gonna tell you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Fair enough,” Phil concedes, and the concern in his voice is palpable.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Fine,” Tommy surrenders. “I was on the roof, and this weird guy that’s not exactly a villian — but he’s also super sketchy — locked the door on me so I jumped down and came back in here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hold on,” Phil raises a hand. “You jumped off the roof?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy flinches slightly at the disbelief in Phil’s voice. “Uh, yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil stares at him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy says nothing.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Toms, that’s like 4 stories. How did you not die, or at least break your legs?” Phil asks, incredulous.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t call me that.” Tommy warns with a snarl. “To answer your question, let’s just say I know a thing or two about jumping off of roofs.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil startles, physically recoiling as his eyes widen in shock. Tommy notices tears welling in his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy recognizes that look Phil’s giving him, and he absolutely despised it. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t fucking pity me.” Tommy spits. “I’m not some kind of baby. I’m strong, I’m a big man. I don’t need pity. There’s no reason to pity me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not what I’m worried about, Tommy—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah? So what are you worried about? Huh? Wanna say it to my face how much of a weakling you think I am?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I just don’t understand. I fly around these skies every night for hours. I— I would’ve— I should’ve noticed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pauses his fast-moving train of furious thoughts, and makes eye contact with the hero for the first time in a while, or maybe ever. “What?” He murmurs softly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tears fall down the hero’s face, and Tommy can’t help but feel angry again. He bites his tongue and shifts his gaze to the empty wall.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I go on patrols at night,” Phil sniffs grossly, and Tommy wants to recoil in disgust but he restrains himself. “Um, specifically because we get a lot of suicide jumpers off of the massivelytall buildings in this city.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil stops for a moment to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. “So, um, since I have wings, I thought I could watch out for that kind of thing, or maybe catch people if they try to jump, but, I’ve only ever had one person to talk down.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy continues to stare at the wall despite his intense desire to look back at the hero. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I thought that was a good thing, um, cause, you know, not having people to save is usually a good sign, but, I think I might be overlooking people, or I don’t check that area, or—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy finally rips his gaze off the wall, shooting the hero a stern glance. “Look.” Tommy says seriously. “I think I know where you’re coming from. You want to save people, right, and the idea of being the only safety net for these people makes you even more sad when you can’t save them or whatever, ‘cause you were their only hope.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy inhales deeply, then sighs. “What I think, though, is that you’re doing a fine job, okay? I’m alive now, so is that guy you saved, just shut it and stop crying like a little baby.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil wipes his eyes once more. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">For the first time, Tommy’s gaze on the hero softens. “I understand.” he murmurs under his breath, half hoping that Phil didn’t hear. “Everyone has their own “one that got away” story that drives them to do this type of shit. You feel guilty about letting someone slip your grasp and you’ve vowed to never let it happen again, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil nods. “He was just like you. Just a kid, cornered by a villain.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s breath hitches.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil offers a sullen chuckle. “I was too late. I couldn’t save him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels a pang of guilt rip through his chest, but he remains silent.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You were actually the first person I ever saved after that day. Well, it was mostly Techno’s doing but I was there. I know i shouldn’t have, but I wanted to protect you. I saw that helpless child in you, and I couldn’t let it happen again. I didn’t want to let you out of my sight.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not a helpless child,” Tommy seethes, but Phil interrupts him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I know, that was my own cognitive distortion. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy huffs, though it’s more of a resigned sigh. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just like you said. I let someone get away, and I never wanted it to happen again, but now I know I could’ve saved you even before Dream’s attack, I—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t beat yourself up over it, dickhead.” Tommy says with the slightest bit of annoyance. “I’m here now, I’m still alive, whatever. You don’t need to be all emo about it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, I let my own desires get in the way of actual hero work and I don’t know how to make it up to you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Make it up to him? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This is seriously pissing Tommy off.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Stop acting like you owe me something. You don’t. I’d rather you just leave me alone. Stop acting like I’m your charity case.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil bites his lip, and Tommy can tell he’s holding back yet more tears. “Right. Okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” Tommy says suddenly, drawing the black and red wristbands from his pocket. “These are yours.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil reaches a hand out and gingerly takes the garments from Tommy. “How’d you get these?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shrugs with as much nonchalance as he can muster. “Found ‘em.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil raises an eyebrow. “...Okay, thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can tell Phil has more to say, but he’s not saying it for whatever reason.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This pisses him off. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What’s with that look?” Tommy asks, a little more hostility in his voice than intended.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Do you still want to stay with me?” Phil blurts, catching Tommy off guard. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stiffens. “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil nods. “Oh. Alright.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sighs. “Majority rules, though, and if Ranboo and Tubbo want to stay, I’ll stay too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy hates the flicker of hope that dances in the hero’s bright blue eyes, not too different from Tommy’s own. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bites back the part of him that wants to ask Phil to take him to that doughnut shop again, and takes off down the hallway, his soles squeaking on the waxed tile. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He needs to go somewhere other than here. Anywhere is fine. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Maybe he’ll go find Tubbo and Ranboo.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>love how this started as a crackfic and now it’s me projecting onto Tommy</p><p>pls feed me comments i desire sustenance</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. my hero</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Phil finally wins Tommy over in the most unconventional way.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As soon as the lock clicks, Tommy pushes past Phil and calls for Ranboo and Tubbo.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Comes Ranboo’s muffled response, laced with annoyance.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, I need to talk to you and Tubbo, can you come out here?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo leans against the side of the house; his head lays above the doorframe despite his posture.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo yawns, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Wha’s up, Tommy?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, I know this sounds stupid, but I still feel really uncomfortable staying here.” The words rush past Tommy’s lips before he can stop them. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Huh? You still don’t trust them?” Ranboo asks, peering down at Tommy through his colored lenses.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um, no. No I don’t.” Tommy replies sheepishly. “I- I know it’s stupid, but I just don’t feel safe there.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo lets his head fall to the side, his dark, messy hair grazing his shoulder. “Fair enough, I guess.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” Ranboo presses. “What did they do to you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, nothing,” Tommy’s stammering causes Ranboo to raise a curious eyebrow. “Um, but I feel so vulnerable relying on them like that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You think you’d be better off on your own? You’re crazy.” Ranboo bristles, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, I’m not, you dick!” Tommy lightly punches the tallest boy. “I can only trust you, and Tubbo, that’s what I’ve learned all these years. Trusting someone now just feels wrong, I don’t really know how to put it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Every time Tommy’s put himself out in the open — taken his walls down — he was hurt. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Badly</em> hurt.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Whether physically or emotionally, he was hurt every time, without fail. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t want to be blindsided again. He’s so incredibly tired of it. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You feel like you can’t be vulnerable around people ‘cause people were mean to you a lot, right?” Tubbo asks, his words slurred together from sleep.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I guess.” Tommy shrugs, studying his shoes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, Phil has proven time and time again that you can trust him!” Ranboo exclaims suddenly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I—“ Tommy stammers, startled. “I know you guys trust him.” Tommy murmurs solemnly. “So you don’t have to come with me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo takes a tentative step back. “Come with you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Tommy responds with a sigh. “I can’t stay here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, you’re being irrational. It’s going to be fine.” Ranboo continues through gritted teeth. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It doesn’t feel like that to me.” Tommy murmurs softly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo offers a gentle grunt as an indication of surrender. “I understand.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks.” Tommy looks up to meet Ranboo’s eyes, and the taller boy looks away, averting his gaze. “Right, no eye contact. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo shakes his head slowly. “It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I forget too, sometimes.” Tubbo offers in consolation.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So,” Ranboo starts, his voice having dropped an octave. “Where are you going?” A twinge of gloom weaved through his tone.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Probably back to the garage.” Tommy replies after a moment of consideration. “Sorry.” He adds hastily.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s okay, big man.” Tubbo grabs Tommy’s hand and pulls him in for a side hug. “You’ll know where we’ll be.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pulls back his hand, noticing a tiny slip of paper in his palm.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo notices the confused expression painted across Tommy’s features. “It’s the address 5up gave Ranboo and me. It’ll take you back here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy smiles at Tubbo, warm and genuine. “Thanks, Tubbo.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Just don’t forget about us.” Tubbo teases with a giggle. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I won’t!” Tommy gapes, appalled. “How dare you even suggest that I would.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I mean, I would.” Ranboo murmurs with a dry chuckle.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo turns to Ranboo in an instant. “Pfft—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy barks his signature screeching laugh, placing his hands on his knees.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo chuckles with them. “Just kidding, I could’t forget you two even if I wanted to.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, that’s nice to hear.” Tommy jabs, a sly smile adorned his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Listen, I just wanted to clarify!” Ranboo fired back, sputtering.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo snickers at the other two, stifling a yawn. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You should go back to bed,” Ranboo advises as Tubbo leans against him for support. “You can’t keep using me for support.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo scoffs, offended. “Why not?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I mean, you can if you want to,” Ranboo amends hastily. “I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I getcha.” Tubbo murmurs, glancing at Tommy one last time. “Stay safe.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo nods in agreement, and wraps his arm around Tubbo’s shoulder to help the tired boy back inside. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at the empty street. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He feels a nervous sweat gather on his forehead. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Trust him, he doesn’t feel good about this decision any more than you do. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He just feels so trapped in that house. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gathers his fingers into fists. He bares his teeth and swallows the lump in his throat.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His mind is so cloudy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He feels so conflicted.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He can’t seem to get over his uneasiness no matter how hard he tries. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What the fuck does he do? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Seriously, what is he supposed to do?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">He feels so vulnerable, so </span> <span class="s2">weak</span> <span class="s1"> when he steps foot in that house; not to mention how awkward it is. Phil’s soft smiles make him feel uneasy.</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What could be hiding behind those kind eyes, if anything at all? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s dealt with people who are this dedicated to deception, he’s been blindsided by people he trusted with his life. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy runs a shaky hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy doesn’t want to risk being hurt again. He doesn’t know if he could handle it. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dare he try?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dare he go back? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy glances at the massive two-story home. It’s not a mansion or anything, but it’s bigger than any of Tommy’s previous foster homes, or the house he was born in.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It feels warmer too. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Cozier, despite its size. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There’s less screaming, the scent of alcohol doesn’t hang low in the air. Tommy doesn’t have to worry about watching his back for any of his foster siblings. Tommy is allowed to relax there. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Right</em>? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Is it too good to be true?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out a frustrated groan. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t have the mental capacity to properly consider this right now. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Instead of loitering around in the lawn, Tommy decides to go to his thinking spot.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He takes a deep breath and breaks into a sprint. He wants to feel so much pressure in hislungs, wind in his hair, and tension in his muscles that he can’t think. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It’s somewhat relaxing, letting himself hurt.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s strong. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He is a big man.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s pace slows to a halt next to a familiar wooden gate.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This gate lead to the park by the river, uncomfortably close to the alley where he met Karl. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The alley that three heroes almost died in.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The same alley where those three heroes risked their lives for some homeless kids. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy just doesn’t understand.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t know if he ever will.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy takes a tentative seat by the roots of a large oak tree near the entrance of the park. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He allows his breathing to regulate, resting the back of his head on the trunk of the tree. He gazed into the clusters of newly grown leaves above, a reminder that spring was approaching. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo and Tubbo trust Phil, Wilbur, and Techno. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy trusts Ranboo and Tubbo with his life. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Logically, Tommy should trust his friends’ judgement. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Unfortunately, it can never be that easy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels another groan rumble in his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">If he’s being honest, Tommy wishes that Tubbo and Ranboo talked him out of leaving; maybe it would have made him feel more at peace.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy understands where they’re coming from. He’s not exactly easy to persuade, and they probably wanted to respect Tommy’s decision. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That doesn’t stop Tommy from overthinking it, though. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">If Tubbo and Ranboo didn’t stop him, does that mean he made the right decision? If so, why didn’t they come with him?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">If it wasn’t the right decision, they should have talked him out of it. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">Could </span> <span class="s3">both</span> <span class="s1"> decisions be correct ones? </span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s thoughts are interrupted by a harsh voice filling the stale air.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You. Tommy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck?” Tommy startles. “Who the hell are you and how do you know my name?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The figure above him stared down at him, eyes filled with snide confidence, painting an unsettlingly familiar image of self-assured superiority.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Antfrost.” The figure says stoutly. “Wanna know why I’m called that?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stands up, challenging the man. “I don’t give a single fuck—“</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s words halt abruptly as a freezing block of ice snakes its way around his left leg, chaining him to the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A bone-chilling shiver climbs up Tommy’s spine, and he stares at the man called Antfrost with wide eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“L-let me go, prick.” Tommy stammers, his heart beating into overdrive.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Antfrost just stares at him with contempt, sending another shiver down Tommy’s spine. His body starts to tremble, the situation becoming far too sickeningly familiar for his liking. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re an awful kid, where are your manners?” Ant sneers, crossing his arms over his chest and continuing to peer down at Tommy with narrowed eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck do you want?” Tommy murmurs darkly, desperately trying to conceal the trembling of his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll tell you what you need to know,” Antfrost snarls through gritted teeth. “Brat.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <em>Brat?</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy does not like that word. His legs begin to shake under his weight. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You have some nerve, just waltzing up to me like we’re buds.” Tommy tries to free his foot from the ice, but to no avail.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ant reaches for Tommy’s wrist, wrenching Tommy forward uncomfortably.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart twists with terror. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">A hand wrapped around Tommy’s wrist. “Come here, you little shit.”</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">Tommy finds himself falling backward, pulled by his forearm. “Don’t you run from me!”</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em> <span class="s1">Sharp nails dig into Tommy’s skin. “I should send you back to where you came, you ungrateful brat!”</span> </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sh-shit.” Tommy mutters breathlessly, his chest heaving as he begins to hyperventilate.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?” Ant jeers. “Little baby gonna cry?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not a baby!” Tommy growls, his voice breaking.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“If I were your parents, I’d send you to your room with no supper.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s breath hitches. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1"> <em>A boy sits in an empty bed frame, his stomach aching from hunger.</em> </span>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sh-shut up. Be quiet, you fuckin’ dick.” Tommy struggles to keep a brave face. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Or what?” Ant smirks. “Will you go tell your mommy? Gonna tattle on me? Am I hurting your little feelings?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy just stares at the man. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His breath grows fainter by the second, his vision clouded with strain.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Stop,” he breathes. “<em>Please</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hm? Sorry, can you speak up? I can’t hear you over the baby wailing. Oh, that’s you? My bad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Stop!</em>” Tommy cries, tears pricking at the edges of his scrunched eyes. “<em>Please</em>, just let me go.” Tommy’s voice wavers, then breaks. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s quite enough, you fuckin’ bastard.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy weakly raises his head, squinting to clear his vision to the best of his ability.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He could make out beige and grey feathers.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Philza? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What’s he doing here?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s legs finally give out, his back colliding with the tree and sliding down the trunk. Silent tears roll down his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How dare you speak like that to a child! Just who the fuck do you think you are?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy had never heard Phil this angry. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry!” the other man blubbers, backing away. “Dream forced me to do this!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Dream?” Phil asks in a low voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, he said he’d do something to Velvet if I didn’t.” Ant sputters, a complete 180 from how he was speaking before. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Velvet?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“My boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Right.” Phil responds in a tone that indicates he’s not quite convinced. “Come by my agency later and we can discuss. Now, you’d fuck off if you know what’s good for you.” The hero’s tone is level and protective.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy faintly hears footsteps disappearing down the hill, then it’s silent.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” says a soft voice. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can barely breathe. He shakes his head frantically. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil grabs Tommy’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that seemed to say <em>“I’m here for you.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I want you to breathe with me, okay? Can you do that?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, inhale for 4 seconds. Go.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy takes in a slow, shaky breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Good, now hold it for seven seconds. I’ll count for you, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels his frantic heart slow down as he waits for seven seconds. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re doing great, now breathe out for eight seconds.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out a trembling exhale, feeling his muscles relax. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That was perfect, I’m so proud of you.” Phil murmurs softly, offering a tender smile to the boy. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy senses the ice around his leg crumbling away. Without a single thought, he leans forward, his entire body melting into Phil’s arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil wraps his wings around the boy defensively, absently rubbing Tommy’s back until the teen’s erratic breathing steadily stabilizes. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy suddenly feels extremely exhausted, all of his energy drained out of him.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s hold is so warm. Maybe... </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Just maybe, Tommy could stay here for a while.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t think straight, and this hero feels safe.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Can you walk?” The hero asks quietly, his voice melodious and soothing, void of a single trace of hostility. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shakes his head feebly, a small whimper escaping his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, do you want me to take you anywhere?” The hero replies patiently.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“‘ubbo, ‘n Ranboo...” Tommy murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, We’ll go to Ranboo and Tubbo. Would you like me to carry you and walk, or do you want to fly?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Walk,” Tommy mumbles. “Please.” he adds in a small voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The hero chuckles softly. He wraps his arm around Tommy’s legs, and allows Tommy to continue resting on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Up we go,” Phil says, slowly standing up as not to startle Tommy.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you,” Tommy replies sincerely. “Was so scared.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“It’s the least I can do, mate.” Phil laughs lightly, his chest rumbling under Tommy’s head. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The gentle rocking of Phil’s hold accompanied by the repetitive sound of light footsteps eventually lulls Tommy to sleep, the boy feeling the safest he’s ever felt.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hello ducklings. it is I. I bring u fluff, as well as hurt/comfort. </p><p>in return i desire your comments. pls</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. you’re safe now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy could cry. This is the best.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels something jostle him, and he jerks upward, instantly scanning his surroundings for danger, his chest heaving.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil lays a hand on Tommy’s head, tousling his thick hair. “Shh, It’s over now. You’re safe with me, no one will ever hurt you again.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares up at the hero. “Really? No bullshitting?” he mumbles, half asleep.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil smiles softly, accompanied by an amused chuckle. “No bullshit here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So if one of them comes back, you’ll beat the shit out of them for me?” Tommy murmurs.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll do you one better.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll fuckin’ <em>murder</em> them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy barks out a watery laugh, laying his head back down on the hero’s shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s like a broken record, “It’s the least I can do, mate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It feels cathartic to finally give in; allow someone else to lift the burden.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The benefits of having someone finally care for him far outweigh the little voice in Tommy’s head that demands to isolate himself from others.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil hums softly as they finish the short walk back to his house, and Tommy rushes inside, barging into the room where Ranboo and Tubbo were having a heated game of monopoly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Back so soon? What happened?” Ranboo asks, instantly dropping the game piece he was holding.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, what the hell,” Tubbo whines. “I was about to make Ranboo go bankrupt. He was gonna land on my boardwalk property!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy closes the door behind him and leans on it, slowly sliding down until he’s on the floor with his head resting on his knees. “Worst fucking day.” He mumbles, muffled.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?” Tubbo’s tone changes from annoyed to concerned in an instant. “What happened? Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bites his lip, trying to hold back tears. “Some guy fuckin’ attacked me.” he murmurs, his voice wavering.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy cow,” Ranboo remarks. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m f—“ Tommy begins to say <em>I’m fine,</em> but he cuts himself off. “He didn’t hurt me, he just said some stuff that really shook me up, ‘sall.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What kind of things did he say?” Ranboo asks, his tone dark.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um,” Tommy starts. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy thinks for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">An uncomfortable silence envelops the room. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” Tubbo murmurs softly, scooting across the floor to Tommy’s side. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy barks a dry laugh. “Shut up, Tubbo. I’m not weak, I can talk about it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo sighs, followed by an amused chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo and Tubbo share a look that says “<em>That’s just Tommy!</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, what happened?” Ranboo says softly, trying to erase the hostility from his voice.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, this guy came up to me talking all weird, like a cartoon villain.” Tommy lifts his head and glances at Tubbo with a short snicker. “He used his quirk to freeze my leg to the ground so I couldn’t get away.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, jeez.” Ranboo recoils, taking off his sunglasses and hanging them on his shirt.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, then he started sayin’ stuff that really got under my skin. Like, the kinda things my mom would say when I fucked up,” Tommy sighs with a dry chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo and Ranboo remain silent. They share knowing glances, nervous and anxious. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That couldn’t possibly have gone well at all.” Ranboo says quietly, glancing at Tommy with concern.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Stop looking at me like that, prick!” Tommy snarls. “I don’t need your fuckin’ pity.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not pitying you! I’m just having human empathy, idiot.” Ranboo rebukes lightheartedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy chuckles. “Shut up, Ranboo.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo rolls his eyes with a soft smile and leans back on his hands. “So, go on.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s expression changes to a nervous one, something shining in his eyes that neither of the boys could discern. “Uh, yeah, well, I kinda got in my head, thinkin’ about all the bad shit people have said to me, and, um, <em>done</em> to me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy says the last part with a strained tone.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo’s expression softens. Ranboo looks away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s so shitty.” Tubbo responds, a trace of anger shone in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How’d you get out of there? Did you snap and absolutely wreck him like a few days ago?” Ranboo questions, leaning forward.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy rests his forehead on his kneecaps once more. “No, I didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo and Tubbo look at each other. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did you get out, then?” Ranboo asks in a small voice.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sighs, cracking a smile hidden by his legs. “Phil saved me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No way,” Tubbo remarks in disbelief. “What are the chances?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You mean you two didn’t tell him where I was?” Tommy lifts his head, his cerulean eyes bewildered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nope.” Tubbo answers, and Ranboo shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did he find me, then?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know, but I swear on my life it wasn’t me.” Ranboo stammers nervously.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Calm down, moron.” Tommy chuckles amusedly. “I believe you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” Ranboo breathes. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Does he have some kind of tracker on me? What the fuck.” Tommy looks at his hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Tubbo cuts in. “I heard Technoblade telling Phil to go to, quote, ‘that tree you sit on in the park,’ whatever that means.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Were you in the park?” Ranboo queries, cocking his head to the side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Tommy says, stunned. “Yeah, I was.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dude, what are the odds? That’s like, fate.” Ranboo comments, grinning.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was meant to be.” Tubbo adds, nodding.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh.” Tommy mumbles, dumbfounded.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at the ceiling. “You really think so?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo shrugs. “Yeah, why not?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Why not, huh?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Good question.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can’t think of any reasons.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Three gentle raps sound from outside the door, shaking the door in its frame minutely. “Um, Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy jumps, then immediately calms down when he registers the voice. “Hi, Phil.” He responds, unable to hold back a smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t mean to bother or intrude, but Tubbo and Ranboo both took showers earlier, and I was wondering if you’d like to clean up, too?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you saying I’m dirty?” Tommy rebukes, feigning hurt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>No!”</em> Phil’s voice comes from behind the door. “I just thought you would feel better without all of that dirt in your hair, and whatnot.” The hero speaks quickly, stumbling over his words.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stands, glancing at Tubbo and Ranboo before he lays a hand on the doorknob. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go ahead.” Tubbo says lazily, laying on the floor, playing with his bee keychain.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy opens the door, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. “It’s okay, I am pretty fuckin’ dirty.” He closes the door behind him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil huffs, amused. “Don’t scare me like that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, you’re scared of hurting my feelings?” Tommy jabs, snickering.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil squawks. “Y-yeah, so what?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy chuckles. “Funny bird man.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Call me that again and I’ll throw you out on the street, you little prick.” Phil thought it was pretty obvious he was joking, but Tommy’s breath catches in his throat, and his eyes widen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“S-sorry, sir. I didn’t mean it, really.” Tommy stammers, staring at his shoes. “Please don’t yell at me, I promise I’ll be good, jus—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil cuts Tommy off by gently shushing him, which causes the boy to look up in shock. “It was a joke, Tommy. I would never do that to you. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s face reddens and he looks away. “Oh. Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t have to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Phil says in the gentlest tone he can muster. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy visibly relaxes at this, his stiff shoulders slumping. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You want me to show you where the shower is?” Phil asks softly, stepping away from Tommy so he’s no longer blocking the boy’s exit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Phil leads him down the hallway to the door on the far right side of the hall. Tommy grabs the doorknob, then tenses, looking up to Phil for permission. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go on, you don’t need my approval to have a shower, mate.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I—“ Tommy huffs, averting his gaze. “I was just making sure.” He finishes, grumbling bashfully. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry about havin’ permission here.” Phil tells Tommy, tousling his hair. “Just don’t burn the house down, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” Tommy responds, opening the door. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Towels are in the cabinet, every bottle is labeled so you shouldn’t have to guess what’s in ‘em. If you need anything just shout real loud, one of us will hear.” Phil says, starting down the stairs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright,” Tommy murmurs softly. “Okay.” He steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He gasps at the state of the bathroom; white, polished tile adorned the floor, the sink and cabinet tops matched the gorgeous marble counters in the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Unbelievably soft bath mats laid in front of each of the two sinks, the bathtub, and the shower. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is the kind of room Tommy was never allowed in. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He feels so... out of place, but in a good way this time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy strides over to the shower and turns the knob curiously, his eyes following the stream of water as it leaves the faucet. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">Tommy watches as steam from the shower clouds up the mirrors and lingers near the ceiling. He didn’t know showers could </span> <span class="s2">do</span> <span class="s1"> that. Tommy gingerly runs his fingers under the water, gasping slightly as the water warms his skin. </span></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy had never had a hot shower. Holy shit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is so cool. Poggers, even.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy steps out of the shower, wrapping an insanely soft towel around himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt so clean, so relaxed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt fucking amazing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hot water does wonders on tense muscles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy opens the bathroom door a crack, timidly peeking out into the hallway. It was empty.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy slowly pushes the door ajar, shuffling into the hall. He pulls the doorknob down as he closes the door so it won’t click when it closes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tiptoes down the hallway, careful not to make a single sound. Tommy stops dead in his tracks as he examines the three bedroom doors. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On each of the doors, there were nameplates with each of the boys’ names. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo’s had little bees around his name, Ranboo’s name was half green, half red, and Tommy’s was decorated with images of records and a single wooden plate painted like a Minecraft grass block. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gapes at his door, his hand hovering above the doorknob. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How did they know? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy opens the door, curiously peeking inside.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s only change of clothes, that he thought he left at the garage were laid out on his bed, all of the stains and streaks of mud noticeably washed clean. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What the fuck. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy honestly didn’t care how they got his other pair of clothes, — maybe it was Ranboo and Tubbo, who cares — he was exhausted and wished only for sleep. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pulls the clean, soft, white t-shirt over his head, and slips on his favorite (and only) pair of sweatpants. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lays on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is the comfiest — and safest — he’s felt in a while. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How did he get so lucky?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello i bring u long chapter today because i rlly needed something to cheer me up. i hope u like. </p>
<p>pls feed me comments i wish to communicate with my ducklings</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. old habits die hard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy faces the idea that this family is not like the others.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Christy was mad. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy had been living with Christy for about a year now, and at first the rigid schedules and restrictive rules were tolerable, but as time went on, Christy only had threats to say, and her eyes held pure disgust when she looked at Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gulps. “Nothing.” He tries to keep his voice as steady as possible.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re thirteen and you still can’t wake up on time?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m <em>fourteen</em>!” Tommy shouts, tears pricking in his eyes. “Not that I’d expect you to remember my birthday.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re a worthless piece of crap compared to my precious Landon, he’s on the honor roll, you know. You should try to be more like him, maybe make your existence more worthwhile.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bares his teeth. “I’m not worth less than your fucking spoiled brat of a son,” Tommy spits, tears spilling down his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“If you’re fourteen, why are you crying then?” Christy bent down and leaned closer to Tommy, her icy gaze boring into Tommy’s shattered soul. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re being a fucking dick!” Tommy shouts, then gasps as a stinging pain reverberated from his left cheek.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Christy held her hand offensively above the other side of Tommy’s face, a twisted grin on her face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gingerly traced his fingers along his face, feeling the blood rush to the surface, heating his skin. Salty tears stung the bruise as they slid by. “You slapped me.” He murmurs, shocked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You want me to give you more reasons to cry, you disgusting piece of street trash?” Christy roads, a sick self-satisfied grin painted on her face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sh-shut up.” Tommy growls, his fingers gathering into shaky fists.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Or what? You’ll tell your mommy? Oh wait, you don’t have one of those, so now you have to leech off of me.” Christy spits, a sour expression crossing her features. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares up at the woman, unseeing. His entire body trembles with fear and rage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re such a fuckin’ baby. No wonder you’ve been returned to that awful dump so many times. You can’t even pull your own weight, always whining about something. Has anyone ever taught you to be grateful?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Silent tears streak down Tommy’s cheeks. His once bright sapphire eyes now appear desaturated and cold. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You aren’t even gonna defend yourself? What happened to all that smart-assing you were doing? Huh? Cat got your tongue now that you realize what you truly are? You don’t even have a power, you’re a useless piece of garbage.” The woman summons two three-inch blades, protruding from her elbow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy takes a step back, his eyes wide in fear. “N-no, please. I promise I’ll be good. I’ll wake up even earlier next time, I-I swear it—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Christy shakes her head, accompanied by a cruel cackle. “Too late for that, brat!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">One second, Tommy was pressed against the wall of “his” bedroom, the next he was slumped on the floor with his hand pressed to his forehead, blood seeping through his fingers, begging for mercy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Please!” Tommy screamed with his dwindling strength, his voice cracking and hoarse. “Please, stop! <em>Please</em>.” He sobbed, bracing for another blow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When another harsh slice to his head doesn’t happen, Tommy timidly peeks open his good eye. The air reeked of gunpowder all of a sudden. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to release this child and come down to the station with me.” the firepower hero, Awesamdude stood in the doorway, towering over both Tommy and his foster mother. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tears of relief mixed with the blood pooling in Tommy’s cheeks and dripped onto Tommy’s ripped jeans.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What’s your name, kid?” Sam asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thoma—“ Tommy pauses. “<em>Tommy</em>. My name is Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, huh?” Sam confirms. “Tommy, I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay? Everything’s going to be okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares up at his hero with wide eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p><hr/>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy!” A rough voice broke through Tommy’s thoughts, and he sat up in bed, clutching the scar above his eyebrow. “I’m sorry, I’ll wake up on time next time, I-I promise, just please don’t hurt me, <em>please</em>.” Tommy’s chest heaved and his clothes clung to his body, damp with sweat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?” Replied the voice. “Tommy, you don’t have anything to wake up for. I’m just here cause I was gonna ask if you wanted breakfast. Techno made lots of bacon.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy cautiously opened his eyes, brushing his greasy hair out of his eyes. “Wilbur?” Tommy murmurs in shock.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur raises an eyebrow, then his expression changes. “Oh.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at him, his mind swimming. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur clicks his tongue. “Phil told me you had some bad experiences with, um... yeah, anyways. It’s me, Wilbur. You’re safe.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s head clears a little, and he blinks the sleep out of his eyes. “Phil,” he breathes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, Phil sent me to wake you up.” Wilbur confirms, kneeling down to meet Tommy’s eyes. “You okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2"><span class="s1">Tommy’s shoulders droop, his hand drops from </span> <span class="s1">his forehead, and his head falls back against his pillow. He lets out a shaky exhale. “Y-yeah. It was just a nightmare.” He mutters breathily, letting his eyes flutter closed.</span></p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur places a warm hand in Tommy’s shoulder, causing the boy to stiffen. A small sigh escapes Wilbur’s lips, and he withdraws his hand. “Um, so, breakfast? Ranboo and Tubbo are already down there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods. “‘m really fuckin’ hungry.” He stiffens again. “Wait, am I allowed to swear?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur chuckles softly. “Yes, dumbass, you’re fucking allowed to swear, bitch.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy giggles quietly. “Point made, dickhead.” He stands up, stretches his legs, and follows Wilbur down the stairs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hi, Tommy!” Tubbo calls, his mouth is clearly full of bacon, judging by how muffled his words are. He waves enthusiastically.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Tommy.” Ranboo opts for a more relaxed greeting, raising a hand lazily with his back staying turned.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy!” Phil chirps. “How’d you sleep?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Wow, Tommy’s never had three people greet him at once. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy takes a seat at the table. “Shitty.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil frowns. “Why is that? I hope you had enough pillows, I mean, I thought four was enough, but I can get you more if you want—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Tommy cuts the stammering hero off with a dry chuckle. “I just had the worst dream.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil looks at Wilbur, who pales, looking away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Are you okay?” Phil asks, crossing the kitchen in record time to stand next to Tommy. “Can I help? Do you need a sound machine or something? I heard that helps people with sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at his empty plate. “No, it was just a nightmare. Nothing to get worked up over.” Tommy huffs, crossing his arms.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil looks at Tommy in a way that tells Tommy Phil knows he’s bluffing, but the hero looks away, sighing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, you want some bacon, then?” Phil changes the subject.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy perks up. “Yeah!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil picks up some tongs and brings three pieces of bacon over to Tommy, setting them down on his plate. “I’ve got three to start with, if you want any more you can get more yourself or you can let me know and I’ll get you some more, okay? What kind of drink do you want? You like orange juice?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">More? Tommy’s never gotten more food. Often times he wouldn’t get food at all. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sure, orange juice is fine.” Tommy says in the most passive tone he can muster.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil raises an eyebrow. “Is there anything you want more than orange juice?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You mean I get a choice?” Tommy gapes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil cocks his head to the side. “Yes, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Do you have Coke?” Tommy perks up, straightening in his chair. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Coke for breakfast?” Techno snorts. “Who raised you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy tenses, his gaze dropping to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil slapped Techno upside the head, glaring daggers at him. Wilbur snickers in response.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Techno!</em>” Phil scolds. “That’s rude.” His feathers puff up in anger. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry,” Techno mutters, more to Phil than to Tommy. “I’m more of a coffee kind of guy, but however you get your caffeine is fine, I ain’t judgin’.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy relaxes, exhaling softly. “You look like you drink black coffee, you prick.” Tommy sneers, tearing off a piece of bacon with his teeth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What’s wrong with black coffee?” Techno squawks, offended. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So much.” Wilbur snorts.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Everything.” Tommy rolls his eyes, then glances at Wilbur, his eyes shining. “I like this guy!” He shakes Tubbo’s shoulder, pointing at Wilbur. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo makes a strangled noise, almost choking on his breakfast. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo cackles at this, enjoying every second of Tubbo looking like an idiot.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2"><span class="s1">“Here you are, mate.” Phil sets a glass of Coke down</span> <span class="s1"> on the table; small, nugget-shaped ice cubes floated at the top. </span></p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No way!” Tommy exclaims, a wide grin stretching across his face. “You guys have the good ice!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“There’s good ice and bad ice?” Phil asks, puzzled.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Duh!” Techno responds. “The big squares are C tier at best, the half-sphere crescent kind that a lot of freezers make are awful, F-tier for sure.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods in agreement. “Nugget ice cubes are easily the best, S+ tier. The kind of crushed ice you get at supermarkets is B, maybe A tier, I haven’t had it that many times.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil snorts. “Okay. Whatever you say.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You guys are lunatics.” Tubbo mumbles, taking a sip of orange juice.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Eh, I can kinda see where they’re coming from. You can put nugget ice in water bottles, it’s super helpful for sports.” Ranboo chimes in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, mister<em> ‘I played volleyball in school,’</em> what about us normal people?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo gapes at Tubbo. “Most people play sports at school! You were just bad at them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Listen, just because it’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it.” Tubbo huffs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why would you say something so controversial, yet so brave?” Tommy snickers into his Coke.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo sighs. “Tommy, I thought you would be on my side.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy grins. “I would never pass up an opportunity to make fun of you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo reddens. “Some best friend you are! This is why I married Ranboo.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Platonically.” Ranboo adds. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil shakes his head. “Anyhow, how do you guys feel about going to the mall today?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo raises an eyebrow. “Why do you want us to come along?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nods. “What he said.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil scoffs. “To buy you guys clothes, stuff for your rooms, shit like that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at him. “Is this a trap?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo nods in agreement. “Yeah, this seems suspicious.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“When the imposter is sus,” Tubbo mumbles under his breath, which causes Ranboo to chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” Phil says evenly. “Don’t you think if I had any tricks up my sleeve, I would have used them by now?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shrugs. “I guess. I just don’t know why you would spend your money on me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil recoils, offended. “Tommy, I’m hurt that you’d think I’m not going to spoil you now that I’ve got you here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Just let him buy you shit,” Wilbur whispers. “He did the same shit with us. It makes him so happy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Techno grunts in agreement. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Um,” Tommy glances at Tubbo and Ranboo, who both shrug. “Sure, yeah, whatever you want.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil grins, clasping his hands together. “Great, then it’s settled. We’re going shopping.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Shopping</em>,” Tubbo echoes, his eyes wide and sparkling.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, Tubbo. Shopping.” Ranboo teases. “Very good.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>short chapter because i had a long day, hello friends and ducklings alike. </p>
<p>as always, your father duck desires comments and feedback to make this fic as good as it can be (:</p>
<p>have nice night, or day!! (heart emoji)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. one hand gripping a cliff, the other holding yours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Phil takes Tubbo, Ranboo, and Tommy to the mall. It goes okay until it doesn’t. Trigger warnings in notes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger Warnings: (SPOILERS)<br/>Violence<br/>Gun violence<br/>Death threats </p>
<p>i think that’s all. lmk if you want something tagged!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In Tommy’s defense, he never meant to get himself into this situation.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He was just minding his own business, about to get started shopping with Phil and his friends, when something just had to go wrong.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">Something always goes wrong.</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A loud crash echoed throughout the mall, followed by dozens of high-pitched screams. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil immediately pulled the three kids out of the way, surveying the situation. The noise seemed to come from the other side of the mall, so nothing seemed off on the side they were on. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be right back, you guys stay here.” Phil says in a dark tone, cold and serious. It sent a shiver down Tommy’s spine, caused Ranboo’s hands to shake, and Tubbo to flinch.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil jumps off the railing of the walkway, falling to the floor below with trained precision. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at the spot where Phil was, frozen in shock.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” Ranboo hisses. “Get in here.” Ranboo grabs Tommy by the wrist and pulls him into the store behind them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We aren’t going to follow Phil?” Tommy asks in a hushed whisper, his voice almost drowned out by distant screaming.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, are you crazy?” Ranboo recoils in typical cowardly fashion.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy looks to Tubbo, who shakes his head. “Oh, no. If a villain is here, I’m running the other way.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy grumbles, pressing his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” Ranboo urges, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Don’t do this.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not going to stand around like a fuckin’ sitting duck. I’m following Phil.” Tommy steps forward, and Ranboo appears in front of him in an instant, purple particles surrounding him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Ranboo continues, his voice deadly. “Don’t leave. It could be Dream.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Who? I don’t know that guy.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sucks in a sharp breath, turning on his heel hastily. He gasps and stumbles backward into Ranboo, his eyes wide and watery.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Dream,” Ranboo murmurs breathily, his tall frame shaking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can’t see the villain’s face behind the mask, but he can hear Dream’s smile as he speaks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Did you miss me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil makes it to the tail end of the mall in record time, flying high above the crowds of panicking shoppers. A booming voice over the loudspeaker urges customers to evacuate. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil turns the corner, his eyes darting around frantically, searching for danger.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Smoke hangs low in the air, slowly rising to the high ceiling of the shopping center. Blue and red lights flicker in and out of the smoke.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Pro hero,” A police officer approaches Phil. “The incident appears to be a simple traffic accident. We have the culprit contained, please assist in evacuation.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil turns his attention to the clearing of smoke where the officer directed his baton, and his eyes meet almond-shaped green ones, a tall, slender pupil in the middle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Antfrost</em>. It was a diversion.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Oh, shit.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2"><em>Tommy</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Dream, we can talk about this, I promise. You know, like civilized men.” Tommy bargains, his voice trembling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream lets out his telltale cackling laugh, air wheezing from his lungs. “What are you, stupid? I’m not gonna talk about this; I’m going to either kill you or kidnap you, which one would you rather me do?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Neither!” Tommy exclaims, his eyes scanning the floor below. “So, fuck off, maybe.” He stammers nervously in a desperate attempt to buy time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not going to eff off, you idiot. I broke out of prison for the sole purpose of either murdering you, or capturing you.” Dream twirls a knife in his hand lazily. “So hold still.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream lunges for Tommy, his wheezing laugh reverberating throughout the eerily empty mall. Tommy snaps out of his fearful trance not a second too soon; Dream’s blade barely grazes his arm. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream quickly turns around for another attack, and Tommy kicks his left shin as hard as he can as the villain passes by.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream stumbles slightly, quickly regaining his balance. “Is that all you’ve got? What about that flashy red lighting Bad told me about?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Bad?” Tommy mumbles, his brows furrowing. “Shit—“ He startles, barely maneuvering out of the way of another knife to the throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Bad Boy Halo.” Dream enunciates, his grin displayed in his tone. He moves his mask to the side, his ethereal golden hair framing his scarred face. “He said you did some pretty cool stuff before—“ Dream sheathes his knife and grabs a roll of bandages from his belt, holding one end between his teeth as the wraps the other around his fists. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream tears off the excess bandage with his teeth, grinning wildly. “How about you show me? Let’s go, me and you, fist to fist. How’s about it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Tommy growls in a low tone. “I won’t. I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sure you can!” Dream chirps, his emerald eyes shining with an emotion Tommy couldn’t quite place. “You just have to get in the right mindset, don’t you? I can help with that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I said no.” Tommy snarls, taking a step back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Not even for, say, Philza?” Dream asks jovially, as if he were gossiping at a slumber party. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s breath hitches. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Philza.” Dream repeats, running a bandaged hand through his hair. “Would you fight for him?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Why do you care?” Tommy asks in a low voice, his eyes dark. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream wheezes once more, followed by a manic chuckle. “‘Cause you love him, Tommy!” Dream grins wildly, his eyes shining. “Don’t pretend that you don’t!” He punctuates his sentence with another cackle, the air escaping from his lungs with a low rumble. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I—“ Tommy stumbles, his eyes wide. “I don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream snickers again, pressing a bandaged palm to his forehead. “Yes you do, idiot! Everyone here can tell.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy steps back, his heart beating in his ears. “C-can they?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, no! He’s just trying to get in your head!” Ranboo hisses, poking his head out from inside the store. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, shut up.” Dream laughs, firing a shot at Ranboo, who just barely teleports out of the way in the nick of time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy howls with rage. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” His skin begins to heat up, the hairs on his arms rising. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll do as I please,” Dream responds easily, examining his knuckles.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Like hell you will.” Tommy tries his hardest to quell his fury, his fists shaking with the effort of curling his fingers together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What are you going to do, cry about it?” Dream jeers, pushing past Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy presses his lips together, a bead of sweat sliding down his nose and dripping onto his shirt. His temples throb with the strain of keeping his eyebrows narrowed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s back collides harshly with the railing as Dream brushes past him, and something inside Tommy breaks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s skin begins to burn, prickling static sends jolts of electricity throughout his body. He stands offensively, his form shaking with the effort of containing his overflowing energy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Flickers of red light illuminate Tommy’s features, dancing across the walls and railings nearby. Scarlet sparks reflect in a nearby store window. Bolts of vermillion lightning surround Tommy, enveloping him in an unearthly hue. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream cackles loudly, his voice rough and crackling. He plants one foot in front of the other, his right fist poised for attack. “Yes!” He cackles. “Yes, let’s go, Tommy! Come fight me!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy growls under his breath; the pain from his power erupting from his body like a once-dormant volcano is almost unbearable. He doesn’t let it show; he grins, clenching a fist of his own. “You’re fuckin’ dead.” He chuckles darkly, his eyes swimming with rage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream throws the first punch, followed by his wheezing laugh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy clumsily dodges the attack, stumbling over himself as Dream quickly rebounds and strikes Tommy square in the back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sprawls on the ground, coughing and trying to suck air back into his lungs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“All bark and no bite, are you?” Dream stands over Tommy, the sparks from Tommy’s power dancing threateningly in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up.” Tommy kicks Dream in the shin, with more power this time. The villain digs his heels into the tiled floor, skidding backward a few feet. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream grins, a wild expression crossing his features. “Yes!” He runs his fingers through his unruly golden hair, cackling with self-satisfaction. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gets to his feet, his chest heaving. His body feels heavy and hard to move. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He can’t let Dream know that, or he’s finished. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What else do you have?” Dream asks, his tone light and cheerful, as if the two are playing a game and he’s winning. “Come on, show me!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ranboo, Tubbo, you two run.” Tommy urges, gesturing behind him with his head. “I’ll cover you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“But, Tommy, what about you?” Tubbo stammers, his eyes flick nervously between Tommy and Dream.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Get the fuck out of here!” Tommy barks, his eyes full of fire. “Ranboo, you too!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo lunges to help Tommy, but Ranboo wraps his slender fingers around Tubbo’s wrist, pulls the boy into his arms, and teleports out of view.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy relaxes slightly, wiping sweat from his forehead at the exact wrong moment, allowing Dream to land a rough punch to the side of his head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s vision clouds, his brain scrambled. He barely feels himself colliding with the floor as his thoughts blend together, his senses paralyzed. When he opens his eyes, rubbing his temple, Dream stands over him, but the villain isn’t looking at Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Let him go. Now.” Phil’s voice causes Tommy’s heart to soar. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He tries to call to Phil, but the second he opens his mouth, Dream kicks him in the back, causing him to double over, gasping for breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil lunges forward, yelling profanities, but Dream takes hold of Tommy’s arm and jerks him upward roughly. Dream locks his arm around Tommy’s neck, holding the boy’s head to his chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil’s eyes widen and he stumbles slightly, trembling minutely.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A shiver of dread slithers down Tommy’s spine, and he swallows a large lump in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels something press against his temple.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Come any closer, and I blow the kid’s brains out.” Dream threatens with frigid cadence, his words hanging low in the air. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy yelps with alarm, his muscles tensing despite how much they ached.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re bluffing.” Phil murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically nervous.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“How about you come find out?” Dream’s finger twitches on the trigger of his gun, and Phil sucks in a sharp breath, stepping backward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The hero tries to form words, but his mind is blank. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Do something, <em>anything.</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil,” Tommy murmurs, his voice childlike and fearful. “Please help me.” Teardrops drip down the boy’s face, the eyes they spilled out of remain wide and full of panic. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Please</em>.” He begs.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hello. first(?) cliffhanger of the fic ooo</p>
<p>honestly not even i know what will happen next this will be fun </p>
<p>i desire comments. what do u think will happen? what do you want to happen? how do u think tommy will main character his way out of this one?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. overheated and outraged</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ranboo appears in front of Phil, surrounded by purple particles, reminding the hero of Tommy’s image just moments ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Phil,” Ranboo murmurs in a dark tone, staring the hero in the eyes. “What the hell did you do?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A gunshot rings in Phil’s ears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them, Dream and Tommy are nowhere to be seen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A dense lump grows in his throat as he subdues a scream. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy?” Phil calls, his voice trembling under the pressure of his nerves.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Silence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy...?” Phil asks again, although it’s less of a call for the boy, and more of an apology. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ranboo appears in front of Phil, surrounded by purple particles, reminding the hero of Tommy’s image just moments ago.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Phil,” Ranboo murmurs in a dark tone, staring the hero in the eyes. “<em>What the hell did you do?”</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One moment, Tommy hears an ear-piercing gunshot split open his skull.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Figuratively, he thinks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s not too sure, because he seems to be alive. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next moment, Tommy’s suddenly reminded of his humanity as he collides with a hard surface, coughing and gasping for breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t intend to be interrupted, so I had to do some improvising. I hope I didn’t scare you too much.” Dream’s voice filters into Tommy’s ears as he slowly rises to his feet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Tommy breathes, frantically glancing from left to right. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Grass surrounds him on all sides; in the distance, trees dot the horizon.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream smirks, his emerald eyes burning into Tommy’s soul, viciously complimenting Tommy’s red-hot anger. “I had to take this fight somewhere more secluded.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait,” Tommy gasps. “So you weren’t gonna shoot me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream breaks into a fit of cackling, ending in a long, wheezing gasp of air. “Of course not!” He aims his gun directly at Tommy, and presses his finger against the trigger.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy flinches at the click of the trigger, followed by eerie silence. He cautiously peeks an eye open, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream smiles, pulling the trigger multiple times, each accompanied only by a soft click. He dissolves into manic laughter again, tossing the gun to the ground. “It’s fake! It’s dangerous to dry fire a real gun.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bares his teeth. “You tricked me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream nods. “Yeah, I did.” He draws another firearm from a holster on his hip, swiftly bringing his arm up and firing a shot at the sky.“That’s the real one,” Dream snickers once more. “I used it to really seal the deal, if you know what I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at Dream in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen, the boy letting out a shaky gasp. “Phil...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream cackles, his wheezing lungs are starting to get on Tommy’s nerves. “He probably thinks I killed you! What an idiot.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy snarls, sparks starting to crackle around him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream returns the firearm to its holster, sighing dramatically. “So, shall we continue? I want to see what you can do.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy balls his hands into fists, which shake with rage. “You will take me back there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Or what?” Dream cocks his head to the side, smiling in the same fashion that was carved into his mask. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Or—“ Tommy stops himself, allowing more fury to burn in his chest as he considers the circumstances. “Or I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d like to see you try.” Dream taunts. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out a hiss of air through his bared teeth. “What if I don’t?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” The villain responds with a low chuckle. “I could always just kidnap you, take you back to my secret lair.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy scoffs, cocking an eyebrow. “Secret lair?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Dream responds with a scoff of his own. “You don’t believe me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not really.” Tommy crosses his arms with a dry chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can show you,” The villain sneers with a wild grin. “Just hold still.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream lunges for Tommy, gaining ground fast. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels his skin heat up, sending a wave of fatigue through his body as his legs move on their own, launching him high into the air.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream skids to a stop behind where Tommy used to be, squinting into the sky. The setting sun obscured his vision of the boy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A spike of anxiety impales Tommy’s chest as he plummets back toward the ground at a rapidly accelerating rate. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He braces for the breaking of multiple of his bones, but his legs absorb the impact just as they did before, springing back a few feet into the air. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy tumbles to the ground, gasping for breath.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit,” Tommy breathes. “What the fuck was that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream claps once, then twice. “Nicely done, I’m impressed.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy whirls to face Dream, standing on shaky legs. “Did you do that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream shakes his head. “Nope, that was all you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Tommy gapes, panting as his body continues to rise in temperature.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream approaches Tommy, his steel-toed boots crushing the grass beneath them. “You can’t control it that well, can you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy grimaces, his fuse shortening by the second. “Shut up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream’s eyes seem to shine in the golden sun. “I can help you,” he smiles in a different way than before. “I can make you into the most powerful person this world has ever seen.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know,” Tommy breathes heavily. “I don’t think I’m inclined to believe someone who specializes in deceit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, come on.” Dream huffs. “I don’t only tell lies.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up. I don’t want to listen to you anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream shrugs. “Fair enough. How about I end this quickly, then?” Dream draws his arm back, poised to collide harshly with the side of Tommy’s head.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy gasps, raising his arms in defense. Dream’s fist impacts his forearms, and Tommy prepares to deal with two broken wrists, but instead, his arms prickle with electricity, absorbing the impact and propelling Tommy backward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy digs his toe into the ground, the force of Dream’s punch forcing Tommy’s feet to slide backward in the mud. Tommy winces, letting out a loud groan. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pushes back on the arm in front, reversing the momentum of Dream’s swing and sending the villain sprawling into the dirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy wheezes harshly and gasps for air, his body growing heavier by the second. His skin stung with static; his body burned with heat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A drop of sweat runs down Tommy’s slick forehead, getting trapped in his eye and irritating his vision.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out a grunt of effort; he can’t take much more of this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream gets to his feet in an instant, grinning ear to ear. “Amazing! Nicely done, Tommy!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck is your deal?” Tommy grumbles with great effort, running a distressed hand through his hair. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just want to help you.” Dream replies cooly, brushing the dirt off his skin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No you don’t. Shut the fuck up, just shut the hell up already.” Tommy startles breathlessly, taking a woozy step back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tears and scarlet sparks obscured Tommy’s vision, and the boy squinted, desperately trying to keep track of Dream.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, have you already accepted help from someone else?” Dream jeers, tapping a finger to his chin in mock thought. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stares at Dream, his mind clouded with pain.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How does he shut this stupid fucking power off, damn it? It’s tearing him apart from the inside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You like Philza, yeah? He’s real nice to you. Probably treats you like a kid. You don’t want to be treated like a kid, do you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t understand at all.” Tommy seethes, his voice barely a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t? It looks like you really trust him, don’t you? It would be a shame if he’s only using you for your quirk.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart stops. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream grins manically. “He’s a hero; he likes you for your power. With you on his side, he could become number one easily.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not true.” Tommy growls, his breath growing fainter. The hot flashes plaguing his body grow to a burning crescendo. Tommy’s legs wobble under his weight. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think it is,” Dream continues nonchalantly. “Think about it: why would he suddenly start caring about you when he found out you had a power? It doesn’t make sense.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just,” Tommy pants, gasping for breath. “It’s just a coincidence.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream cackles. “You don’t think he’s going to toss you aside like a ragdoll once you stop being useful to him? You really believe that he won’t abuse you and then leave you for dead?” Dream’s voice rises as he speaks, ending in a manic shout.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy faintly feels a spike of terror rise in his chest, amidst the fatigue and agony.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sh-shut up.” Tommy’s fury begins to bubble over, the sparks around his body growing into dangerous bolts of scarlet-hued electricity. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s entire body burns with agony as his body struggles to contain his power, yet he can’t stop it as it loses control. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy leans back, clenching his fist. His vision fades as he lets out an enraged shout, swinging at Dream with all of his strength.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The last thing he sees before everything flickers out is Dream’s snide grin, bathed completely in red. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>another cliffhanger sort of, i’m rlly tired so sorry about the brevity of this one, i tried my best </p>
<p>comments, maybe? if u want (:</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. all that i have to lose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Is that understood?” Dream’s voice cuts into Tommy from beyond the door, but it feels like the villain is breathing down his neck, his hands wrapped around Tommy’s throat. </p>
<p>Tommy groans in frustration, his voice watery and raw. He thought he was finally rid of this. </p>
<p>He thought he was safe now. </p>
<p>He thought it was all over.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy wakes up on the cold fucking floor with a throbbing headache. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It’s dark as shit in here. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy groans, sitting up with great effort. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He holds his hands in front of his face, waving his fingers back and forth, but nothing changes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It’s still just pitch fucking black.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Pardon the swearing, Tommy’s super god damn pissed off right now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s starving too, which doesn’t help in the slightest.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The last thing he remembers is losing his shit at Dream’s taunts and overclocking his power until he passed out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy groans once more, pressing a palm to his forehead all too roughly. <em>That was Dream’s plan all along.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy played right into Dream’s hands, yet a-fucking-gain.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Great. Absolutely peachy. Just <em>splendid</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy leans back, ready to go back to sleep, — what else could he do? — when his head hits a wall equally as hard and cold as the surface beneath him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He yelps in pain, shuddering at the sound of his voice reverberating across the room. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy scoots backward and leans against the wall, attempting to squeeze out even a single thought through the crushing pain in his temples and behind his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He shivers. He’s not wearing his jacket; he left the house in the same thin sweatpants and T-shirt that he put on an unknown amount of time ago. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Because of the nature of his falling into unconsciousness, Tommy has no fucking clue how long he’s been out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This pisses him off. He growls in frustration, slamming a fist against the dense concrete beneath him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A few rouge sparks flicker around Tommy’s fist for a fleeting moment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A thought strikes him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">God damn, he’s a genius.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Okay, get mad.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Harness the anger. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He tries to remember some of the things Dream said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>
      <span class="s1">Dream cackles, his wheezing lungs are starting to get on Tommy’s nerves. “He probably thinks I killed you! What an idiot.”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s face starts to heat up, his brows furrowing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil is not an idiot.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>
      <span class="s1">“You like Philza, yeah? He’s real nice to you. Probably treats you like a kid. You don’t want to be treated like a kid, do you?”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s not it. Phil treats him like a <em>person</em>. Tommy’s hands ball into fists, and flashes of red illuminate the floor under him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>
      <span class="s1">Dream grins manically. “He’s a hero; he likes you for your power. With you on his side, he could become number one easily.”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy stands, electricity dancing across his skin. The cold chill from the elements has faded, and Tommy’s only left with scorching anger. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream’s half right; Phil is a hero, but he’s not just a hero. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s <em>Tommy’s</em> hero. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s eyes squeeze shut to keep from tearing up, and his teeth clench so hard that they threaten to shatter under the pressure. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bites his lip and opens his eyes, followed by a gasp of shock.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Red bolts of electricity dance around Tommy’s hands and legs, illuminating the entire room in a scarlet glow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out an exasperated breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He’s in a fucking garage.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">This cannot be real. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">There is no chance. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy?” A sickeningly familiar voice calls, muffled through the thick wall. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy whips around to face the voice’s direction, coming almost face-to-face with a fucking gigantic steel door.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I can see the red from out here, I know you’re awake.” Dream calls sweetly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy wants to throw up. This is the worst possible timeline. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t come in here, you fuckin’ bastard, or I’ll kill you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ah,” Dream hums, not a single bit deterred by Tommy’s threat. “Just like you said last time, yeah?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Sh-shut up,” Tommy retorts, tears welling in his eyes from frustration.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Aw, what are you gonna do, cry?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe, isn’t that what you want?” Tommy tries a different approach to his response this time, fighting back the nervous squeeze his chest gave.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream is silent for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” he says simply. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Another beat of silence — no, a whole measure of silence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy isn’t sure what to say.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Then what do you want with me?” Tommy asks, putting as much venom in his voice as he could muster.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I wanna study you,” Dream responds from behind the door, his tone even and level, giving nothing away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s breath catches in his throat, though he’s not quite sure why. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Now that I’ve got you here, things will be a lot easier.” Dream hums, and Tommy can hear the way the words curl around the villain’s sinister smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy starts to sweat, the sparks around his body flickering with instability. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You listen to me, or there will be consequences.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream’s words sink into Tommy’s skin, burning and scorching it beyond repair. They beat and scratch against Tommy’s chest, leaving it raw and heaving.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy presses his teeth against his lip so hard that he starts to taste iron in his mouth. He tries to take a deep breath, but the air just tangles in his throat and he coughs, tears spilling from his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Is that understood?” Dream’s voice cuts into Tommy from beyond the door, but it feels like the villain is breathing down his neck, his hands wrapped around Tommy’s throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy groans in frustration, his voice watery and raw. He thought he was finally rid of this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He thought he was safe now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He thought it was all over. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Blood pools in his mouth, his jaw refusing to unclench. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why did Phil lie to him? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Why, <em>why</em> was this happening again? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Hasn’t he been through enough? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">When does Tommy get to rest?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” Dream repeats in a commanding tone, dripping with severity. “Answer me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy just shakes his head, letting his back fall against the wall, his legs slowly giving out from under him as he slides down the cold metal.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” he murmurs miserably, his voice barely above a whisper, “No, please. Not again.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy?” Dream demands, striking Tommy with more terror. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Please,” Tommy burrows his head into his knees. “Just leave me alone. I don’t want to fight anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The door swings open. Blinding light floods the small space. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The clicking of steel-soled boots slowly approaches Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy jumps as a hand falls on his shoulder, and he curls further into himself. “<em>Please</em>,” he begs incoherently. “Please, please, please.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, are you alright?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s head jerks upward, his neck popping uncomfortably with the sudden movement.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Kind blue eyes bore into his own. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil?” Tommy murmurs in disbelief, a watery smile slowly stretching across his lips.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, ki—“ Phil is cut off by Tommy lurching forward and wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s heart soars, and tears pour relentlessly out of his eyes. “Phil, thank god you’re here, I-I don’t think I could have, I don’t—“ Tommy cuts himself off with a shuddering sob. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Phil hums softly and strokes Tommy’s head, gently running his fingers through the boy’s hair. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy runs his hands down the hero’s back, searching for the familiar texture of soft feathers to hold onto, but he’s only met with smooth fabric against skin.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pulls away with a gasp, pressing his back further against the wall. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Phil,” He mumbles, his eyes wide and fearful. “Where are your wings?” Tommy’s eyes blur with terrified tears, and the hero seems to flicker in and out of the darkness. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Dang it,” a cold, carved smile stares into Tommy’s eyes. “I knew I forgot something. Can’t believe it was so obvious.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy almost faints. He grits his teeth, his chest heaving. “D-dream?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His heart beats so loudly in his ears that Tommy almost can’t make out the villain’s words through the noise. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream moves his mask to the side, and Tommy blinks the tears out of his eyes, finally able to see clearly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The light from the open door casts an eerie backlight on the villain, flooding Tommy’s veins with ice and filling his throat with sharp thorns. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy swallows harshly, his feeble frame trembling fervently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He can’t even form words, he’s so terrified. Tommy’s breath grows thinner as Dream’s unfeeling emerald eyes stare through him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You were afraid,” Dream says with a innocent smile, his voice light. “I thought pretending to be Phil would help you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That—“ Tommy stammers breathlessly. “That wasn’t—“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream’s facade breaks, and he cackles raucously, the wheezing at the end of his laughter piercing Tommy’s ears. “Of course that wasn’t actually Philza, you idiot!” Dream continues to laugh uproariously as Tommy’s skin pales. “I just wanted to show you how much power he had over you, and how much power <em>I</em> have over you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Tommy mutters, winded. “No, that’s not true. That’s not— </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1"> not-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream cocks his head to the side. “How could you be so sure?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t do that,” Tommy startles incredulously. “You can’t fucking do that. There’s no—“ Tommy gasps for breath, clutching his chest. “No way.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s eyes squeeze shut as he can’t get a hold on his breathing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shit,” he mutters, tears dripping onto the floor. “<em>Shit</em>.” He repeats, his voice breaking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He falls onto his side, resting his head against the frigid concrete. The coolness calms him slightly. He murmurs various words of denial incoherently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream wheezes, savoring the moment. “Yes!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy opens his eyes. He gasps, his breath catching in his throat once more. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">His hands, no, his <em>entire body</em> glowed like a dying star, surging with power. Enormous charges of electricity glimmer and dance around his legs and arms, warming his skin and bathing it in blinding scarlet light. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t pass out this time.” Dream whoops like a fan cheering for a sports team. “This is great!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Great?” Tommy manages to croak. “You’re fucking <em>cruel</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Dream pulls his mask back over his face. “It’s a necessary sacrifice, I didn’t want to scare you.” He stands up and makes his way over to the heavy steel door, his boots clicking unbearably across the concrete floor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sucks in a sharp breath of air, the power surging through his body stinging his skin and throbbing in his muscles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll get you some food.” Dream’s voice holds no emotion. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tommy barely notices the door shut as he desperately tries to calm down. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">As the world flickers out, Tommy figures that won’t be happening. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tommy’s trust in Phil backfires. what does he do now? </p>
<p>i really want ur comments on this one!! i tried to switch up my writing style a lil this time [:</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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